


Drive

by NiMHGuys



Series: Scruffy [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, Organized Crime, Racing, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 32,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiMHGuys/pseuds/NiMHGuys
Summary: Tim and David's new relationship is tested as a new case inadvertently unearths David's dangerous past.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've already finished writing this story, but I'm publishing it in small increments just to get more feedback so the ending can be as good as possible. Please review and give feedback! Thank you!

[ ](https://ibb.co/hFyRvy)

 

 

NCIS

 

“McGee, I may have to kill you.” Ziva walked into the bullpen favoring her left leg.

 

“Why? What did I do?” There was only so much McGee could do before 0900.

 

“Thanks to all the desserts you’ve been bringing in, I’ve been running an extra mile every morning before work. I got a Charles-horse right in the middle of the coffee shop.”

 

“ _Charlie_ -horse,” Tony corrected, not even looking up from his _Sports Illustrated_. “And don’t complain or _McBakey_ will start holding out on us again.”

 

“Fine. But if our next suspect runs, don’t expect me to help you with the chase.”

 

McGee had been taking instructions from David in baking some basic goods for the team. Tony went so far as to hug McGee after a delivery of fresh blueberry muffins. McGee gave David proper credit when asked who taught him, but only Ziva knew the true nature of their relationship.

 

“David’s coming again tonight. Any requests?” McGee tried to mask the excitement in his voice. It had been 2 months since David’s first visit, and their workload had eased up enough that he could spend a few days in DC. He had also located an old school friend interning on the Hill, so he could be kept busy while McGee worked.

 

Tony took his legs down off his desk and in a very desperate voice said, “Probie, I will be extra super special nice to you today if the _Muffin Man_ is nice to me tomorrow.”

 

“It would be nice, _DiNozzo,_ ” Gibbs said, sweeping into the room, “if you got some work done. Got a double hit. Chief Petty Officer found dead in a burned out car, wife murdered at home, both last night. McGee, Ziver, you take the house. DiNozzo, with me at the crash site.”

 

McGee managed to grab the keys to the fleet sedan just before Ziva could, which meant they’d get to their crime scene in one piece. She grumpily accepted shotgun, and they drove to the scene.

 

“So, big plans for tonight?” Ziva asked in a sensual tone.

 

“Not doing this,” McGee said, but his flushing face answered the question. “It’s none of your business.”

 

“Of course it’s my business! I’ve been keeping your secret, so I get to be kept up on the _‘undercover’_ work.”

 

He rolled his eyes, trying to think of anything that would get his face back to its normal hue. “You make innuendos but you can’t even get the name of a muscle cramp right?”

 

“I work with Tony, remember?”

 

“Fair enough. Alright, yes, it’s kinda a big night. We’ve been talking about it for a few weeks, and tonight we’ll… you know...”

 

“Well I’m happy for you. It’s about time.”

 

“Hey, what does that mean?”

 

“Oh come on, the last time you had anyone on your arm was when we infiltrated that celebrity club with Abby and Agent Lee.”

 

Tim had forgotten how long it had been since he had last had sex. He was somewhat nervous about it, but he gradually became more and more comfortable talking about it with David after their first meeting. David would be teaching him a few things, but nothing Tim wasn’t ready for. He was decidedly not going to give Ziva _that_ much detail, though.

 

NCIS

 

Gibbs and Tony arrived at the scene, but one side of the road was closed off for evidence for a half mile on each side of the car. They had to maneuver around the shoulder of the opposite side of the road to allow the coroner’s van through. As they crossed under the crime scene tape, a LEO directed them to the officer that found the scene.

 

“What are we looking at?" Gibbs squinted towards the charred remains on the side of the road.

 

“Patrol found it this morning,” the sergeant looked quite ready to go home, but at least tried to remember everything vividly. “This area’s pretty scarce, mostly fields and not a whole lot of traffic, so a lot of people like to rev up their cars and blast through here. We patrol it maybe a couple of times a night, so we’re figuring it happened sometime between 3 and 7 AM.”

 

“Is that all?” Gibbs gave his patented _‘Ya think?’_ tone.

 

“Had to close most of the road. Found some skid marks a ways back on the road, and found a couple of bullet casings but they had already been run over. Hopefully no other evidence got contaminated. Called you guys as soon as we ran the plate. We sent officers to notify next-of-kin, and apparently they found his wife dead too. It’s been a long morning.”

 

He walked them closer to the car, which had been about 100 feet from the road. Much of the outside appeared crumpled up in one way or another, though parts appeared to have blown outward instead of inward. The engine block, the interior, and the accompanying dead body in the driver’s seat all looked like they had been thoroughly immolated. Jimmy and Ducky were already at the site, trying to remove the body with as little damage as possible.

 

As they approached, Tony recognized the car, and failed to stifle a heartbroken moan.

 

“Something you want to share, DiNozzo?”

 

“This car, it’s a Shelby GT500. Probably not even 2 years old, just a baby. Wonder how he afforded one on a Chief Petty Officer’s salary.” Tony snapped a few shots, accepting the fate of the poor vehicle.

 

“Wife, maybe?”

 

“I’ll have _McGeek_ run their financials when they’re done at the house. But, _damn_.”

 

“Chief Petty Officer Warren Bronston. What do we have, Duck?”

 

“Well Jethro, given the burning of the body, I can’t give you exact time of death.” Ducky moved closer to the body to demonstrate, “However, I can tell you that the most likely cause of death was a broken neck, which is consistent to what the sergeant told me about the scene.”

 

The officer continued, “The car appears to have hit that tree over there at a very high speed, then spun over here and burned. We’re not sure if the crash caused the fire or vice versa, but there’s engine debris near the tree.”

 

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs nodded toward the tree, issuing a silent command.

 

“On it, boss.”

 

“Bullet holes?”

 

Ducky chimed in, “I’m not sure. The damage to the skin and this angle isn’t conducive to revealing that kind of wound. I’ll need to get him to autopsy to further examine him. The proverbial bright side, if there is one in these situations, is that with his neck broken he was most likely not alive to feel the flames.”

 

NCIS

 

McGee entered the house to take pictures while Ziva took witness statements. The forced entry was obvious, but he methodically searched and documented the rest of the downstairs. The desk in the study had been ransacked, and there was a laptop power adapter missing its owner, so McGee’s first thought had been armed robbery gone wrong. The TV in the living room, however, was fairly new, mid-to-high end, and still there.

 

Moving upstairs, he documented the body in the hallway. Single shot through the back, brass unpoliced on the carpet, bullet lodged in the wall behind the victim. He noticed that one of the arms was at an odd angle, like it had been moved after she fell. He photographed it meticulously as Ziva came up the stairs.

 

“Witness across the street says he heard a loud noise around 4 AM, looked out the window and saw a car starting and pulling away. All he could tell me about it was that it was red and loud. He said he complained several times to the Bronstons about the Chief Petty Officer’s car, which was apparently _yellow_ and loud, waking him up when he drove it late at night. He assumed it was one of their friends.” Ziva scanned the body. “You thinking armed robbery?”

 

“Not quite sure. I checked the desk downstairs, laptop’s missing but the TV’s not. Haven’t checked the bedroom yet to see if anything’s missing. Look at her arm, not really positioned for a fall, is it?”

 

“You’re right, maybe she held something that the killer took?”

 

“I didn’t see her purse downstairs, can you check out the bedroom for me?”

 

Ziva walked into the bedroom, immediately noticing the TV also still present in this room, along with a few jewels on the vanity. She found the purse, took pictures, and then began looking inside. “Wallet’s gone, no phone that I can see,” she called out to him. “There’s a few dollars cash but not much else. Somewhat sloppy for a robbery.” She looked over to the nightstand and saw a charger cable for a phone perched next to the lamp and alarm clock. She walked back out to the hallway. “Maybe he took her phone. I saw a charger but nothing in her purse. If she was calling the police, he would’ve wanted to stop the call.”

 

“LEOs said they actually called her after finding Bronston, and when she didn’t answer they came by and found the break-in. If she didn’t call the police, maybe she called him. That could give us a time of death. Let’s check the garage, see if we can’t find anything to do with the crash.”

 

The garage looked like a mechanic’s shop. There was a hydraulic lift, multiple toolboxes, several engine components, and a set of tires. As he took more photos, he noticed a couple of small blue canisters. When he turned them over, he saw the word _NOS_ and the explosive warning label.

 

“I think we just found out what our officer was doing out so late at night.”


	2. Chapter 2

NCIS

 

 

McGee sat at his desk waiting for Gibbs. He hated when the answers to the questions only created more questions, but that came with the job. He just hoped it wasn’t going to keep him too late.

 

When he figured he had a couple of minutes, he dialed David.

 

_“Hey you, how’s work going?”_

“Intriguing so far, not yet open-and-shut but it could be a lot worse. Should still be good for tonight.”

 

 _“Good. I can’t wait,”_ David said, and McGee could hear his smile through the phone.

 

“How’s your day going?”

 

_“Well I’m about $500 lighter. Liz and I reminisced about high school, and ended up going to a music store to look at acoustic guitars. It was just so pretty, and it sounded so wonderful. I couldn’t stop myself. They finally kicked us out and we’ve been jamming in the park ever since.”_

Tim smiled at how easily David was entertained. “And you’re planning on hauling that back in the Mini?”

 

_“Hey, that thing is like the TARDIS. Bigger on the inside.”_

“Whatever you say.” McGee had not found the lack of space as comfortable as David did. He then spotted Gibbs coming from the elevator. “I gotta run, see you tonight.”

 

“What have we got?” As Gibbs walked into the bullpen, Ziva, Tony, and McGee stood up on queue.

 

McGee took point, pulling up their IDs on the screen. “Chief Petty Officer Warren Bronston, 35, wife Jessica, 31, married 3 years, no children.”

 

Tony spoke next, “Registration shows Bronston drives, well drove, a yellow 2007 Shelby GT500, bought from a dealership, paid cash. Wife had an SUV, also new, bought at the same time, also paid with cash.”

 

Ziva added, “A neighbor complained multiple times about Bronston’s car. Apparently he would come back late at night, and did not drive quietly.”

 

“A car like that’s not meant to be kept quiet, Ziva,” Tony said, still bitter after seeing the beautiful car in its current state and remembering the fate of his own Mustang. “It’s meant to be heard and adored.”  


McGee clicked the remote to pull up his pictures from the garage. “Well apparently it wasn’t just being heard, it was being raced. We found a couple of depleted nitrous oxide canisters in his garage, along with some car components. Based on his financials,” he clicked the remote again to bring up the reports, “the components were paid for mostly by his card, but there is no record of enough money being in their accounts to pay for both of their cars outright, which means he had money from other sources.”

 

“Have Abby check the car for the modifications,” Gibbs nodded to DiNozzo, “and try and get a play-by-play of the crash. What about the wife?”

 

“Shot in the back with a .45. Seems to have been a very selective armed robbery,” Ziva spoke up. “Their computer, her phone and her wallet were missing, but there were other obvious valuables that could’ve been taken and weren’t.” She took the remote from McGee, and he headed back to his desk. “We think she may have been trying to use her phone when she died, and the killer took it. Her arm appeared to have been moved after she fell.”

 

“And we were right,” McGee called from his desk, bringing more information to the screen. “Her phone records indicate that she placed a call to Bronston at 4:45AM, which his phone never received and it went straight to voicemail. Coincidence on time of death?”

 

“You know how I feel about coincidences, McGee,” Gibbs called as he left the bullpen for the elevator.

 

NCIS

 

Gibbs walked through the morgue door to the site of two bodies, side-by-side. On the left was the charred body of CPO Bronston, and on the right lay his wife.

 

“I felt it appropriate to let them be together in death, Jethro. I hope you don’t mind.”

 

“Not at all, Duck.” Gibbs gave the elderly man a soft smile. A touch of sentiment was nice down here.

 

“I think we can get the obvious bit out of the way with Mrs. Bronston. She took a bullet through her back and straight through her heart. I believe it was a .45 caliber, which Ms. David said they found at the scene. Her husband, on the other hand, did not bear any bullet wounds. He suffered severe whiplash, but he somehow managed to completely sever his spinal column between his 5th and 6th cervical vertebrae.”

 

“Could the accident have caused this on its own, or was there help after the initial impact?”

 

“If you’re suggesting murder after the accident, I may have to disappoint you. Traditionally, when breaking someone’s neck, the head gets twisted to the side until the spinal column breaks under the stress. This man had very sharp, rapid impacts from both in front and behind in a very short period of time, severing his spine with more lateral force. I suspect Miss Sciuto will be able to provide an answer to this part of the puzzle after examining the vehicle.”

 

NCIS

 

McGee looked up from the computer in the evidence garage to see Gibbs coming out of the elevator bearing gifts of coffee and ‘ _Caf-POW!_ ,’ walking towards the victim’s car that McGee and Abby were examining.

 

“If that’s Gibbs, tell him not to come down here yet!” Abby called from under the car.

 

“Too late, Abs,” Gibbs responded. He turned to McGee.

 

“Boss, I’m running what’s left of the car’s electronics. Each car has what’s called an Electronic Data Recorder, it’s like a plane’s flight recorder except it records data and stores it--”

 

“McGee,” he interrupted.

 

“Sorry, boss. It’ll tell us what happened just before and after the accident. I think I can decode it, but I’m just not sure how, yet.”

 

Abby slid out from under the car, and got up to slurp her ‘ _Caf-POW!’_ before quickly telling Gibbs, “I can’t believe this, I’m coming up empty. I haven’t even had time to check the bullets yet because this thing is like an alien spaceship. Except it can’t fly, which would be super cool if it could but it’s not because it can’t.”

 

“Abs.”

 

“Right. The modifications made to this are pretty extensive but center mostly around the engine and transmission. I’m having a lot of trouble getting in there though to see it all because the front-end is so warped and damaged, and things are melted all over. I can't figure out if the crash caused the fire or the fire caused the crash because, again, everything is all twisted up. Right now, my best guess is that the crash started the engine fire, which blew up the gas tank, which then heated up and blew up the nitrous tank.”

 

“Best guess, Abs?” Gibbs hated guessing.

 

McGee had a thought, but he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. “Boss,” he spoke up, ‘I have a friend who used to work with cars, especially modified ones. He might be able to lend us a hand.”

 

“You trust him?”

 

“Yeah. He’ll at least be able to give us a better idea of what we’re dealing with. Won’t have to get him too involved.” He secretly hoped Gibbs would say ‘no’ so David wouldn’t have to be brought in, but they did need help.

 

“Ok, make the call.” Gibbs turned around and left for the elevator.

 

Abby turned to him with a very suspicious smile on her face. “Ooh, a _friend_?”

 

“Yes, Abby,” he tried not to pay attention to it, “just a friend.”

 

“Oh come on, McGee, I can read you like a book. You regretted asking Gibbs the moment you said it. You only ever do that when you’re trying to hide someone from us, and you’ve been squirrely about what’s going on between you and _David_ for months. You might as well have made a sign!”

 

“Ok, look, you know I didn’t ask because of that, but if we want to get this done soon we need help figuring it out, right?”

 

“Of course, but can you really say you don’t just want to show off even more of David’s skills, and see him bent over a car?”

 

 _“Abby!”_ he hissed.

 

“Make the call, McGee,” she said in a sing-song voice as she skipped back over to the car.

 

McGee rolled his eyes. She was partially right, he did like that this could integrate David into his work life in a very fluid and small way. He just knew David would get serenaded with embarrassing _McStories_ the entire time he was here. It was like bringing him home to family. He dialed David’s number, really hoping he wouldn’t pick up, and swore internally when he did.

 

_“Hey there, out of work already?”_

“Uh, no, in fact just the opposite.” _'Ugh, why did I have to open my mouth?’_ “We’re having a bit of difficulty with a case, and it’s involving a suped up car that’s in pretty bad shape. We just would like some extra input, well more like advice, or a second set of eyes just to see what we’re missing. I thought of you but you really don’t have to if you don’t want, and it won’t even take long if you do.”

 

David chuckled to himself on the other end. _“Ok, Tim. Give me a one-word answer. Do you need help?”_

_‘Dammit.’_ “Yes.”

 

_“Then text me the address and I’ll be right there.”_

 


	3. Chapter 3

NCIS

 

An hour later, David walked out of the elevator into the evidence garage with Ziva on his arm. She had already explained procedures of getting a civilian involved with a federal case, but waited to see just how much McGee and Gibbs wanted him read into this case. Tony was sitting on the table, imagining himself driving the once-beautiful muscle car, while McGee was neck-deep in car’s recorded data.

 

“Oh, _Jesus!_ ” David exclaimed upon seeing the car. He went up to the car, and spoke to it like it was a child, “Oh you poor thing, who did this to you?”

 

“See, Probie? He gets it,” said Tony, observing.

 

McGee hadn’t even noticed him come in, but then immediately stood up and sheepishly smiled. “Uh, hey David.” He walked over and gave David a quick hug, before saying, “Let me get you some gloves and a suit,” and running off to a workbench to grab some.

 

Tony dropped down from the table and walked over to greet David. “So, you’re McGee’s car expert?” He offered his hand, which David shook. “Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.”

 

“Oh, _Tony_ ,” David said with a mischievous smile, “yes I’ve heard a lot about you. David O’Malley.”

 

Tony’s eyes widened in excitement. “Wait, David as in the same David that made all those wonderful desserts McGoo’s been bringing?”

 

David bashfully smiled, “That’d be me!”

 

“I am eternally grateful for what you have done. The last few weeks have been so wonderful for my morale and my stomach. McGee didn't say you were a greasemonkey too.”

 

“Yeah, I spent a lot of time working in race garages. Nothing fancy like NASCAR or Indy but mostly amateur drag racing and such.”

 

“If you’re as good with cars as you are with flour then we should be out of here in no time.”

 

David smiled at the compliment, but turned his focus back to the task at hand. “So what can you tell me about this? Do you know what happened?”

 

Tony started, “Vehicle was found burned to a crisp this morning, looked like it had crashed then burned. We’re just trying to determine if it was an accident.”

 

 As McGee handed him the gloves and red NCIS overalls, David asked, “The driver?”

 

“Didn’t make it,” McGee answered, trying to spare David the graphic details, “but we want to see if this was just a street racing accident, and eliminate the possibility of tampering.”

 

David narrowed his eyes at the vehicle.

 

Tony looked at McGee, wondering why he omitted details about the bullet casings and the condition of the body.

 

David finished slipping into the overalls. “Alright, let’s get to work. Do we have the EDR?”

 

“Still working on it,” McGee called, walking back to the computer.

 

David muttered to himself while he examined the engine, undercarriage and trunk. Getting to the various nooks and crannies caused him to be working at all kinds of angles, which McGee tried very hard not to look or risk visualizing him with much fewer clothes on. Occasionally, David would ask a garage technician to remove a wheel or to help unmount the engine. Gibbs eventually came down and appeared behind Ziva and Tony.

 

“Any particular reason you two _aren’t_ doing anything?”

 

“We’re observing, boss, making sure the civilian doesn’t destroy evidence,” Tony piped up.

 

Gibbs looked at the various car parts scattered around the garage and the engine hanging from a crane, and delivered a head-smack to the two agents. He then walked over to where David’s legs protruded from underneath the car. “Hey.”

 

David rolled out, and was surprised to see the man there. He had never seen him before, but he instantly knew who he was. He stood up, removed one of his gloves and offered his hand. “You must be Special Agent Gibbs. David O’Malley.”

 

“Mind telling me why my crime scene is in pieces?” He said, shaking his hand. He could see why McGee would like this man, and could immediately tell they weren’t just friends.

 

“Not at all. This engine was modified pretty nicely, with a couple of amateur mistakes, but their design didn’t cause this. When using nitrous, you can’t just let the engine just run at maximum RPM, otherwise it’ll blow almost instantly. That’s what happened here. Tony said he had hit a tree and then burned, I think it was the other way around. There had to be an element of driver error involved, too. I need the crash data to be sure, but from this angle, I’m betting that the driver accidently put the car in neutral instead of a gear. Then he hit the nitrous at full throttle while the car was still moving. The engine blew, he lost control, then crash and fire.”

 

“So he was street racing?”

 

“Well, that’s the thing.” He walked over to the wheel assemblies laid out on the floor. “The brakes on this were not nearly proportionate to the power of the engine. That and the type of tires makes me believe he was more of a drag racer than anything. The Shelby GT500 is powerful, but its handling sucks. It wouldn’t have done well on a track or street with anything more than moderate turns. Maybe a larger track or a drag strip, but I’d never open up on a back road on purpose.”

 

“Hey David,” McGee called, “I’ve finished translating the data, but it looks incomplete.”

 

David walked over behind McGee, getting just close enough so they could feel each other’s heat without making it look intimate.

 

“You’re right, there’s no deceleration. That can sometimes… wait a minute…” he fell silent as he read the data.

 

“Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!” Abby squealed as she ran out of the elevator towards him. “I matched the bullet casings from the crash to the ones at the house. Same kind, same gun. Running prints now.”

 

David looked up with his eyes wide at the mention of bullets. “What? Bullets?” They all turned to look at him, and he turned to look at McGee. “You failed to mention that.” He looked back at the engine data, then to the car, and a dark look crept over his face. “No...”

 

“What is it?” Ziva asked.

 

David crossed over to the trunk of the car. “Someone get me some calipers, I need to see something.” He bent down into the trunk, prying off the straps of the nitrous oxide tank and pulling it out. It was scorched and had an outward-facing blast hole ripping through the side. He took the calipers from Abby and checked the thickness of the tank. “This is wrong. Did you check to see what was actually in this tank?”

 

“No, not yet,” Abby looked puzzled.

 

“This tank is too thick to be a nitrous tank, and these readings from the engine are much to erratic for nitrous. This was an oxygen tank with a NOS label on it. NOS is usually held as a liquid, and not under as much pressure so the tanks are thinner. Oxygen as a compressed gas requires a much thicker tank. Using straight oxygen is extremely dangerous and could definitely cause this kind of damage. You didn’t find any bullets on the actual car, did you?” David’s worried look only got worse, and he seemed to be remembering something.

 

“No, just some brass on the road. Why?” Gibbs asked.

 

“Whoever shot at him didn’t want the bullets to hit him. They weren’t trying to make it look like they killed him, just scare him into hitting the nitrous, and make his death look like an accident. The engine blew hard and fast. It wouldn’t have taken long for the oxygen tank to blow with that kind of spark, which then blew the gas tank. Your guy was murdered, and most likely by another racer.”

 

“Run trace on the tank, Abs. Make absolutely sure.” She nodded, took the tank and sprinted to her lab. Gibbs continued, “Can you tell me where he’d been?”

 

“I saw a GPS unit in there, but I don’t know if it’s intact or even how to get that data from it.”

 

“I can handle that,” McGee stood up.

 

Tony chimed in, “He was making his money under the table, either illegal gambling or race winnings. We can check race tracks and private air strips in the area and cross-reference them with the GPS.”

 

David’s eyes flickered for a moment at the suggestion, which only Gibbs noticed.

 

“I’ll help,” Ziva added, and they both turned to the elevator.

 

“Get to it,” Gibbs nodded to David and McGee, keeping his eyes on the former for a moment, then turning to join Ziva and Tony.

 

David stood still, shaken at what had just transpired. McGee walked over to him after the elevator closed.

 

“You ok?” McGee pulled him into a warm embrace now that they were alone.

 

“Yeah, I guess,” David replied. “I didn't know you dealt with murders. With this, the car, the sabotage… it just takes me back. My time with cars wasn't exactly sunshine and roses. Those racer types can be pretty brutal. I hope I helped instead of making this more complicated.”

 

“It’s ok, you did good.” McGee figured this was what David had been holding back when he explained the tire-track tattoos on his back. It probably wasn't easy being openly gay and into racing. “Once we get this done, Gibbs probably will have a couple of questions to tie things together, then you can go. We can talk more tonight, ok?”

 

“Ok.” He gave McGee a quick kiss, then grabbed a fresh pair of gloves and got to work.

 


	4. Chapter 4

NCIS

 

Ziva and Tony were double-checking their research, finding potential places where the victim would’ve spent his nights racing. Tony ran through the financials to find where he purchased the parts and where he would’ve began racing. Ziva searched the area for race tracks and airport strips that might have been used, and also pulling IDs for their owners.

 

“You don’t think it’s a little odd,” Tony said, “that McGee’s friend is such a talented baker yet knows as much about engines as he does?”

 

“Not really,” she answered. “I’m pretty decent at cooking, yet I know eighteen ways to kill you with a paperclip.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean having multiple skills, I just mean he could be building race cars or designing engines for much more than he’s probably making now. Working in a small-town bakers shop isn't exactly high-paying.”

 

“Maybe’s doing what makes him happy. Owning and running a business is no small accomplishment.”

 

“How do you know he owns it?”

 

“He told me.”

 

“When?”

 

“A couple of months ago. I had lunch with him and McGee.” She suddenly realized that she might not have been supposed to say anything.

 

“What?! Why would they invite you and not me?”

 

“Really, Tony? It’s not that hard to believe given the pranks you had been pulling on him. If you actually want to be active in his personal life, start being nicer in his work life.” Ziva smugly smiled.

 

“It’s getting late, I wonder if they’ll wanna go out for a beer,” Tony said pensively.

 

 _‘I seriously doubt it,’_ Ziva thought to herself, knowing their plans for the night.

 

Just then the elevator opened, with David and McGee quickly walking towards the bullpen. McGee went straight for his computer, and David stopped between Ziva and Tony’s desks, not really sure where to go or sit.

 

“We got the GPS history for the last week,” McGee called from his desk. “Sending to you now, Ziva.”

 

Gibbs also appeared, moving swiftly into the bullpen. “What did you find?”

 

“GPS history for the car, Ziva’s cross-referencing now,” McGee answered.

 

“I also went back through Bronston’s finances trying to separate out car part purchases from possible track admissions,” Tony said from his desk. “I found a couple possibilities, but will need locations to confirm.”

 

“Got it,” Ziva said triumphantly from her desk. She pulled up two satellite photos with the remote. “History shows frequent trips to a track in Summit Point, West Virginia, and a private airport in Indian Head, Maryland. They’re almost two hours apart, but every weekend night he would drive to the track, then to the airport, and back home.”

 

“Boss,” Tony spoke up from his computer, “got a hit on the credit card. Bronston bought himself track time during a weekend special about 5 months ago. Since then, he’s bought track time almost every week, plus performance upgrades. Nothing on the airport.”

 

Gibbs looked up at David, who was looking at the screen. Normally, a non-team member would be playing catch-up at this point. He, however, was nodding and looking at the screen like it was confirming something he already knew. He was holding back.

 

Gibbs’ phone rang, he answered and quickly said, “Alright,” then hung up. Turning to everyone else, he said, “Good work, go home,” then left to go upstairs.

 

DiNozzo grabbed his bag, then turned to McGee and David. “Hey, you guys wanna grab a drink?”

 

They looked at each other, but then David said, “You know it’s kinda been a long day, long drive, didn’t really expect to dissect a car today. Rain check?”

 

McGee simply added, “Yeah?”

 

DiNozzo looked disappointed, then suspicious. “Sounds… good.”

 

Ziva tried very hard not to say ‘I told you so.’

 

David and McGee took a different elevator since David’s car was in the visitor’s section, and McGee wanted to walk him out. He could tell David was still troubled by the events of today.

 

In the privacy of the elevator, McGee took him into his arms and gave him a soft kiss. David returned the kiss, then burrowed his face into the base of McGee’s neck.

 

McGee whispered, “Hey, I’m sorry I got you into this. I know it’s bringing up bad memories.”

 

“Yeah, just not how I expected today to go. But I’m glad I finally got to meet more of your friends, get a better glimpse of your world.”

 

“Let’s get home and you can get an even better glimpse.”

 

“Mmmm sounds wonderful. I have quite an evening in store for you.”

 

NCIS

 

“You rang, Assistant Director?” Gibbs said sarcastically as he closed the door to Shepard’s office, which was temporarily occupied by Assistant Director Leon Vance.

 

“Well, I figured the best way to have you announce that you’re coming is to do it for you,” Vance said with an amused smile as he unpackaged a fresh toothpick. “How’s your case looking?”

 

“We’ve connected the murders to each other, now we’re looking for suspects and locations.”

 

“I hear you’ve recruited some outside help.”

 

“Friend of McGee’s. Useful, helped Abby and McGee make sense of the mess in the garage.”

 

“What do you know about him?”

 

“Not much, but I have a feeling I should keep him around.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Gut.”

 

“Think he might be involved?”

 

“No, but he knows more than he’s saying.”

 

“If you think it’s important, check him and press him. Have someone keep an eye on him.”

 

“I think McGee has that covered.” Gibbs said with a knowing smirk on his way out.

 

Vance thought about it for a moment, then shrugged it off and went back to his computer.

 

Before getting to the stairs, Gibbs pulled out his cell and dialed Abby. “Hey Abs, first thing in the morning I want you to run a background check on McGee’s buddy.”

 

_“Wanna make sure he’s good enough for our boy, right? I already got a picture of his plates from security, just been waiting for the go-ahead.”_

“No, Abs. Something else.”

 

Abby was quiet for a moment. _“Your gut? I’ll do it now.”_

“My eyes only, do not tell McGee. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

NCIS

 

Tim barely had the apartment door closed before David pressed him against it with a deep kiss. While he was surprised at first, he welcomed the contact and pulled David closer, letting the stress of the day unwind. Once again, Jethro interrupted with his leash in his mouth, demanding to be taken out on his walk. The two men broke out laughing as they realized they’d never get anything done without Jethro interrupting, and relented to the German shepherd’s terms.

 

Tim gathered Jethro’s leash, but handed David his wallet and said, “Would you mind ordering dinner while I take him out? You can use my card, and there are menus in the drawer next to the refrigerator.”

 

“Sure thing,” he said, and deposited his bag in the bedroom. Once Tim was out of earshot, he said to himself, _“Like I’d let you pay for dinner…”_ and took out his own card while perusing through menus. He settled on a Chinese food place, figuring they might get leftovers out of it. After placing and paying for the order, he was told by the cashier that it would take half an hour for delivery, to which he replied, “Hold off for another hour. I want to make this last.”

 

He went back into the bedroom and into his bag, where he retrieved a pack of condoms, lube, and a small butt plug, placing each on the nightstand. He then went to the bathroom to retrieve a spare towel for the pending mess. As he stood in the bathroom, he looked in the mirror trying to determine if he had gained or lost weight. He had jogged more at home so that he’d be better equipped to jog with Tim, but he was also ‘quality control’ at the bakery, which demanded breaking certain dietary commandments. He then heard the door open along with Jethro’s panting, and went out to meet them.

 

“I ordered Chinese, should be here in about an hour and a half or so.”

 

“That long, huh?” Tim gave a knowing smile and snaked his hands along David’s waist and pulled him close. “Now I wonder, what on earth could make them take so long.”

 

“I’m sure I have no clue,” David returned a cheeky grin, “but I think I know how to keep us occupied until they get here.” He took Tim’s hands and led him into the bedroom.

 

Tim was expecting the condoms and lube, but was slightly surprised to see the plug. He slid his hands around David from behind, letting them slide up under the hem of his shirt. “Someone’s been busy,” he whispered into his ear.

 

David turned around and look Tim right in the eyes. “Listen, there’s no pressure here. If you’re not sure about anything, just tell me.”

 

Tim smiled lovingly and said, “I trust you. I may not be sure about some things, but I trust you to ease me into them. I want you.”

 

David slid his hands up Tim’s shirt, then began to slowly unbutton it one at a time. At the second button, he saw the glint of the dog tag pendant he had left with Tim when he first visited. He brushed this thumb over the inscription, _“Buns Not Guns.”_

 

Looking up at Tim he said, “You’ve been wearing it?”

 

“Every day,” he said.

 

David continued unbuttoning while Tim’s hands kept wandering until the rest of their clothes were off, and David pulled Tim backwards onto the bed and into a passionate kiss. While their tongues duelled, Tim reached out and squeezed David’s engorged biceps while David kneaded Tim’s 4-out-of-5 ass like it was dough. David then reached back and wrapped his hand around Tim’s stiff prick, about 7 solid inches with a cut, mushroom head. Tim gasped at the contact, and reached down to feel the first cock that was not his own. David’s member was just shorter than Tim’s at 6 and a half, but was twice his girth. Tim broke the kiss out of shock and looked down in horror. David, having seen that response before, went immediately into teaching-mode.

 

“It’s ok, it’s ok, we’re not _starting_ with that.”

 

Relief swept over Tim’s face, then he looked over at the small plug on the nightstand which was a comfort compared to what he held in his hands. David reached up and gently nipped at the spot behind Tim’s ear, which made Tim draw in a sharp breath and arch his back in pleasure.

 

“Oohh, someone has a spot!” David sang happily.

 

“No one’s ever done that before…”

 

“Mmm, if I’d have done that when I first thought of it, we’d probably still be in the evidence garage.” He tipped Tim over so he was laying on the bed, then began kissing his way down his lover’s body.

 

“Just be careful, I am very ticklish and won’t be responsible for damages,” Tim half-joked, half-warned.

 

David looked up with an evil smile and said, “I’ll take my chances.”

 

David ran his hands down the inside of Tim’s thighs, eliciting moans and sighs. Reaching his target, David softly blew across Tim’s twitching cock. Tim’s body seized while he muttered obscenities, pleading with David to keep going. David reached his hand up and tweaked one of Tim’s nipples while he cupped his balls with the other hand. He gently pulled at the sack, making Tim’s cock swell even more. Deciding to tease his prey further, David gently ran his tongue up the shaft and tasted the pre-cum gathering at its peak. Tim frantically grabbed sheets and flesh, finding anything to prevent him from soaring out of the bedroom. David kneeled, then pushed up Tim’s legs and dragged his short, scruffy beard across the inside of Tim’s thighs, nibbling as he made his way closer and closer to Tim’s center.

 

“Please--” Tim gasped, “I… need…”

 

David slowly let down Tim’s legs and pulled him up into a warm embrace.

 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.”

 

“No, no, I’m ok,” Tim tried to breathe, “I just was so close, I just…”

 

David cupped the back of his head, holding him close and tight.

 

“No one’s ever touched me like that, it’s just so intense,” Tim continued. “Just not used to it.”

 

David laid him back down and slowly massaged his chest down to his legs.  Once Tim’s breathing returned to normal, David reached over and brought the lube and plug over to them. Tim watched in anticipation as David applied the lube to his fingertip then lowered it down. He leaned forward and slid his tongue into Tim’s mouth as he massaged the muscles of Tim’s hole. Tim gasped as he felt the finger slide in, and David slid around to nip at the spot behind his ear.

 

Tim reached up and wrapped his arms around David and ground into his finger, letting the sensations rock through his body. He felt his hole relax, and then a second finger teased its way inside next to the other.

 

In their embrace, Tim reached down and rubbed their members together. David reached his other hand down around Tim’s, and slowly began pumping his fingers into Tim. Their bodies scraped together, beginning to get moist with sweat as their breathing intensified. They locked their heads together, lips inches apart, feeling each other’s hot breath on the other’s face.

 

“Yes, oh yes, please… David…”

 

“With me baby, with me.”

 

“I can’t… I can’t,”

 

“I’m almost there baby, feel it with me.”

 

David pulled Tim even closer, and moved his lips down Tim’s neck. He felt him starting to tense, and knew he wouldn’t last. Tim’s other hand was pulling hard at David’s back, trying to anchor himself to the other man.

 

“David-- I can’t--”

 

“Cum with me, baby!”

 

They both shouted in ecstasy as they shot their loads onto each other, convulsing into each other’s arms and eventually toppling down onto the bed. David regained his head after a moment, and ran the towel over their bodies while Tim was coming down. He pulled Tim close and spooned him, wrapping their hands together.

 

“That was incredible,” Tim finally said, looking over his shoulder at David, who leaned up to kiss him.

 

“Mmm, yeah. It feels so good finally being with you. I’ve been looking forward to it for a while.”

 

“When was the last time for you?”

 

“Hmm… probably a year, year and a half ago? Little bit before we started talking. You?”

 

“I’m not even sure. I’ve come close, but it never got there. I get so tongue-tied around people sometimes, even you. Hard to reel in someone when you can’t even speak.”

 

David rolled Tim back and gave him a long kiss, letting his tongue drift into the other’s mouth, then he pulled up and smiled. “I like getting tongue-tied with you.”

 

They settled in and stayed wrapped up in each other on the bed until the food came, and they begrudgingly got out of bed. They each slipped on underwear and Tim wrapped the towel around himself to go answer the door. David perused Tim’s movie collection and decided on _Empire Strikes Back_ to watch with dinner while Tim divided the food, and they settled in for the evening.

 

NCIS

 

Tim woke in the morning to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He answered instinctively, rubbing his eyes as he looked at the time.

 

“Hello?” he said sleepily.

 

 _“McGee,”_ Gibbs’ voice came through, _“Bring O’Malley with you when you come in.”_

“Boss?”

 

Gibbs had already hung up, and a hand appeared on Tim’s chest, pulling him back down into bed.

 

“What time is it?” David groaned, his voice muffled by pillows.

 

“0600. Gibbs wants you to come with me today.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, he just said to bring you with me. Probably just follow-up.” Tim stretched then stood up.

 

David moaned then pulled the covers over his head.

 

“Really?” Tim laughed. “Are you usually this bad about getting up in the morning?”

 

“Nope,” David responded, still half-asleep. “Much worse.”

 

After much coercion, he finally got David out of bed with the promise of coffee and they took Jethro for a morning run. They stopped at McGee’s regular shop before getting to work, and found Tony and Ziva were waiting in the bullpen.

 

Tony stood up, “Hey David, welcome back. Morning, _McCoffee._ Didn’t bring any for the rest of the class?”

 

“Tony, you have coffee,” McGee pointed to the cup on Tony’s desk.

 

“I used it all getting here. Now I need something to get me going.”

 

David chimed in, “I need to find out what these people do to their coffee. I could make a fortune and retire at 35 if we sold this at my shop. Tastes like Christmas, kicks like rocket fuel.”

 

“You should. That coffee is the source of life,” Tony agreed.

 

“I think you have a problem Tony,” Ziva said just before taking a huge gulp of coffee from her own cup.

 

“You think _I_ have a problem? Try watching Abby main-line ‘ _Caf-POW!’_ sometime,” Tony retorted.

 

“What’s _‘Caf-POW!’_?” David looked confused.

 

“It’s a caffeine drink,” McGee answered. “If this coffee is jet fuel, ‘ _Caf-POW!’_ is a nuclear bomb.”

 

“ _I_ have a need,” Tony said, “ _Abby_ has a problem.”

 

“We all do,” Gibbs appeared as if on cue, “the Bronston’s killer. Tony, Ziva, get warrants for everywhere Bronston went. McGee, go through their emails, calls, and texts. Find out what was so important on the stolen computer and phone. Meet me in Abby’s lab when you’re done. O’Malley, you’re with me.” Gibbs’ tone was not happy, and each agent immediately did as they were told.

 

David sent McGee a nervous look, partly for not having been separated from him in the building before, mostly not liking the tone Gibbs took. He had to walk quickly to keep up with him as they went to the elevator.

 

McGee watched the elevator carefully to see if it made it all the way down to Abby’s lab. If the light on the outside turned off before it reached there, it only meant one thing.

 

Gibbs flicked the switch to the elevator after they passed the next floor down, causing the elevator to jolt to a stop and the main lights to shut off. He then turned to David, and stared at him with the coldest eyes David had ever seen.

 

“I want to know everything. If I think even for a second that you’re lying, I will hold you for obstruction of a federal investigation, _Orion._ ”

 


	6. Chapter 6

NCIS

 

David’s eyes widened in horror. He tried to back away, but his back hit the elevator wall.

 

“Where did you… of course… you ran a check on me because I helped with the car.” David was starting to shiver, wanting to be anywhere else but here. He tried to match Gibb’s hard stare, but failed.

 

Gibbs pulled a picture out of a folder he was holding and showed it to him. “Talk. Now.”

 

He scoffed. “Why? The fact that we’re here means you already know everything.”

 

“What I know,” he stepped closer and towered over a now cornered David, “is that you’re much more familiar with our case than anyone here, and don’t seem too inclined to discuss it.”

 

“That part of my life has been over for over a year.”

 

“Sean MacIntyre.”

 

David’s eyes narrowed and twitched, his jaw quivered, and his fists clenched.

 

“You were paid to kill him,” Gibbs continued.

 

David leaned on the elevator rails like he had just been hit, and his expression turned to one of shock and disgust.

 

“Is that what you think? Is that seriously what you think?”

 

“You received a sum of one million dollars from a shell company. You change your name within days. A year and a half later, the son of a wealthy politician is dead in what appeared to be a car crash. A week later, you change your name again.”

 

“You _bastard._ You drag me in here thinking you know all about my life and you don’t even see what’s in FUCKING FRONT of you! That piece of shit killed my husband!”

 

Gibbs kept his face up. His research showed that this man had a domestic partner years ago, but nothing on him being murdered. Yet there was no lie in his eyes.

 

“We had been together for years. Finally, Canada legalized equal marriage, so we went up and got married. Hadn’t even been a month, when...” his voice broke. His eyes welled with tears.

 

“When…” Gibbs nudged.

 

“Hit and run. He thought it’d be fun to careen around in Daddy’s ride, but lost control and… Kevin was just on his way home... ” He choked back a sob. “That _fucking coward_ RAN! Didn’t even call the police, just sped off. I was at work. I had no idea. Then the police called. I can’t tell you how hard I had to fight, to scream, to _beg_ , just for them to look for who did it.” His breath was getting shakier with every sentence. “They found him, and I filed charge after charge. But his Daddy was this big-shot who couldn’t have his reputation tarnished, so he bought the judge and offered me an out-of-court settlement and an NDA to keep quiet. My lawyer told me to take it. He said-- he said the court wouldn’t recognize our marriage or partnership, so I’d be left with nothing-- nothing from Kevin’s pension or insurance if I didn’t.”

 

“So you took the money, and they buried the case,” Gibbs’ voice had softened. That’s why he hadn’t seen the case files linking them together.

 

David broke down and sobbed. He nodded his head.

 

“And the name change? The appearance? The car? You were tracking him.”

 

David nodded again. “I became ‘Orion Marks’ to find him. And there he was, running a street racing ring. Living like a goddamn king! Cars, drugs, guns, girls, anything he wanted.”

 

“Did you kill him?”

 

David buried his head in his hands.

 

“ _Did you kill him?_ ” Gibbs repeated.

 

“No! No. I-- I didn’t. But I didn’t save him, either.”

 

Gibbs glared at him.

 

“I worked my way in. I wanted to expose him. I trained, I built a car, I kept the police reports, I was going to beat him at his own game, with his own money, and show everyone what a worthless _murderer_ he was!”

 

“You were arrested as a suspect to the ring, but released without charges.”

 

“Had a few close calls, but one race got busted. The officer who booked me recognized me. Wondered what the hell happened to me to get here, so I told him what I was doing. He let me go, even offered to help me bust him, but I knew the court would just be bought yet again.”

 

“So you went back to race MacIntyre.”

 

He nodded again. “I confronted him with the photos and reports. Told him the time and the place. A mountain road, extremely difficult, middle of nowhere, but a live street. If he won, I’d turn over the files. If I won, he’d be exposed. The word would be out, no other ring would take him, and he and his fucking father would be ruined. I knew I could win, and apparently so did he because he tried to have me killed.” His anger built back up.

 

“How?”

 

“The tank. That’s how I knew what happened to your guy. He thought he was so smart, but I could tell he switched my NOS to O2. I knew better than to try and use NOS on this road anyway, but he didn’t. He put his Lambo through a guardrail on a cliff. I even stopped to see it. The car was sitting there, half hanging off the road. I didn’t get out, I just sat there and watched. He tried moving to get out, and it leaned the car forward, and he was gone.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“I just drove on. Exactly like he did.”

 

“You didn’t call for help.”

 

“ _He took everything from me!_ He didn’t even own up to it or even recognize me when I confronted him before court. He just ran to his daddy, and his lawyers, and his money. THEY KILLED MY HUSBAND!” David shouted through his tears. “And as if that wasn’t enough, they went and put a _fucking PRICE TAG_ on him, on our LIFE, our _FUTURE!_ What would _you_ have done?!”

 

Gibbs was silent as the sound of a bullet being fired across a desert, piercing air, glass, and flesh, echoed in his memory.

 

“I would’ve given everything to bring him back,” David continued, “but I couldn’t. So I gave everything to get his killer. I abandoned my family, my friends, my job, even myself. I became a monster so I could find the other monsters.” He wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve.

 

“But you came back.”

 

“The other leaders convinced the ring that I had killed him. They always mourned racers killed in action but they never actually blamed anyone for it, but this… he was their king, their _Golden Boy_ , and they all turned against me. Wouldn’t even listen to me when I tried to tell them what he had done. I hadn’t felt an ounce of guilt over his death until I was alone again, realizing Kevin was still gone. So I dropped everything, took what money I had left and tried to make a life.”

 

“McGee, does he know?”

 

“No. We haven’t… It hasn’t been long enough. We’re not ready. _I’m_ not ready to have that talk.”

 

“We’re going to need your help to do this. You know how all this works, you did it on your own.” Gibbs rarely asked for help, but he couldn’t pass this up, even if the kid was emotional.

 

“I can’t. I... I just can’t. I almost didn’t make it back last time.”

 

“You did before, you will again.”

 

“No, you don’t understand. The last time I did this, I was ready to die every time I went behind the wheel. I _wanted_ to die. If I didn’t face death in a race, I didn’t push hard enough. That’s why they were afraid of me, and that’s why I won. If I go back, it might actually happen.”

 

“It doesn’t have to.” Gibbs put a hand on David’s shoulder. “You’ll never be able to bring him back. All you can do is stop it from happening to somebody else’s husband.” Gibbs played his trump card, “Or someone like Tim.”

 

David looked up sharply. He knew he was being played, but he also knew Gibbs was probably right. He couldn’t handle the thought of Tim dying the same way.

 

“Keep that in mind and you’ll walk out alive,” Gibbs finished.

 

“He’ll hate me, what I’ve done, what I’ll have to become.”

 

“Tim doesn’t know how to hate, just give him time and he’ll understand. Trust me, I’ve been divorced three times. You wanna talk monsters?”

 

Gibbs offered a comforting smile and flicked the switch to start the elevator again.


	7. Chapter 7

NCIS

 

McGee tried the elevator to get down to Abby’s lab, and the button’s light never came on. Gibbs was in his office alone with David, which terrified him. He sprinted down the stairs to Abby’s lab, but found her alone. What was more unusual was there was no music, all the screens were off, and she was leaning against her lab table with her arms folded, looking down.

 

“Abby, what’s going on? Where are Gibbs and David?” he said anxiously.

 

Abby crossed the lab and gave McGee a tight hug.

 

“Tim… I’m so sorry. I had to do it.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“I can’t tell you, just promise you won’t be mad at me when you find out.”

 

“Find-- Abby what is going on? Gibbs and David were supposed to come down here but they’ve been in the…” he stopped when he saw the look on her face, “...but you already knew that. Abby what happened? What did you do?”

 

The elevator door opened, and Gibbs and David walked into the lab. McGee was shocked to see David’s face. He is eyes were red and puffy, and he kept his head down avoiding McGee’s gaze. Gibbs had interrogated him. Abby shot a death glare at David, then looked up at Gibbs.

 

“Well?” She said expectantly.

 

“It’s ok, Abs,” he answered.

 

“No, it’s NOT ok! He’s been lying to Tim!”

 

“Abby!” Gibbs warned.

 

“Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?!” Tim tried to shout over them.

 

Abby turned to her computer and powered on all the screens. On the large screen, the same picture Gibbs showed David appeared, along with an arrest report from 2006. The picture held someone who looked like David, but his face was thinner and pale, his chin shaved smooth, his hair was ice-blue, his eyes were cold and lined with black makeup, his ears had multiple piercings, his lips were twisted into a dark smile, and the booking sign he held said ‘Orion Marks.’

 

McGee looked from the picture to David and back.

 

“It’s my past and I left it behind,” David spoke quietly from behind everyone. “I only lied when I had to cover it up. I’m sorry.”

 

McGee looked at David with utter confusion and betrayal. Tony and Ziva entered the lab slowly after feeling the tension radiating. Their eyes also saw the arrest report with David’s old picture on it. Gibbs nodded to David continue.

 

“I was married a long time ago. His name was Kevin O’Malley. He was killed by a street racer named Sean MacIntyre three years ago. I changed my name from ‘David Brigantine’ to ‘Orion Marks’ to track him down and expose him. After a year, I infiltrated his ring and confronted him. He died during a head-to-head race with me during which he tried to kill me. I was cast out, blamed for his death, and had to rebuild my life. I changed my name back to ‘David,’ but I wanted to carry anything I had left of Kevin with me, so I kept his last name.”

 

Gibbs turned to the team. “He’s going to help us find whatever Bronston got himself into. He believes an underground racing ring executed him, and it wasn’t just a personal vendetta.” He then turned to David, “No more holding back information. If you’ve got something, say it.”

 

“What did you find out about the track and the airport? Who owns them and what do they look like financially?” David asked.

 

Tony started, “Summit Point Raceway, owner Charles Breslin, financials and background came back clean. The track holds amatuer track time every weekend. People bring their cars and test them on the track. It gets timed, and there’s a small competitive prize pool for the winners in each class. Strictly legal.”

 

“It’s an airlock,” David replied. “It’s how they recruit, safely and slowly, no one getting too exposed to their operation until they’ve proven themselves and checked out at each point. This is just the first one. You run your ride for a while, and if you keep winning and prove yourself without knowing it, they approach you to see just how far you’re willing to go. The track owners may be involved, at least to the point where they get paid by the crew to let them have the space after hours. Airport is most likely their drag strip.”

 

David mustered the courage to look up at McGee, who was staring far off, but still clearly feeling the situation.

 

Ziva chimed in, “Private airport owned by Lester Haltze. Former commercial pilot, now teaches private lessons for small aircraft. Financials check out, nothing extravagant. Lives in one of the hangars.”

 

“Probably paid under the table, too. Would keep him quiet about the racing which would be worth the long drive,” David calculated. “Abby you mentioned bullets at a house yesterday. What else happened?”

 

Abby gave a questioning look to Gibbs, who nodded.

 

“Bronston’s wife was also murdered that same night, and their house was robbed.”

 

“I found something in his email, Boss,” McGee finally spoke up, “Bronston had a draft of an email going to his C.O., but it never sent. There was no text, just a file called ‘Legion Evidence.’”

 

“That’s our motive. He was compiling evidence against the ring and they found out, had to kill him to silence him,” Gibbs said, to which David nodded. “Will it tip them off if we show up to ask about him?”

 

“It’ll tighten their security, but not as badly as if you don’t show up. If they knew he was Navy, they’ll be expecting you. If you don’t show, they’ll be expecting someone undercover and we’ll never get in.”

 

“You said your ring was involved in drugs and guns, will it be the same here?” Gibbs asked. McGee’s eyes widened in shock at the revelation about his lover.

 

“It wasn’t like that back then, mostly just showing off whatever pieces they could find. Some racers used small amounts of meth to try and amp up their racing, then smoked joints to enjoy the after-party. Nothing huge. This ring, I’m not sure. Without getting someone in there, it’s impossible to tell what they were moving, or what the next airlock is. Whatever they have, though, it’s big enough to risk killing your guy.”

 

Gibbs scrutinized David’s face, looking for any indication that he was still holding back or lying. After a moment he appeared satisfied.

 

“Tony, Ziva, get me the C.O. then go canvas the track and airport. Abby,” Gibbs nodded his head to the door, wanting to give McGee and David a chance to talk alone.

 

The four team members walked out. David leaned back against an empty lab table, keeping his head down and trying to brace himself for McGee’s reaction. McGee stood, speechless and confused. The man he woke up with now seemed like a stranger.

 

“Tim…” David started, “I’m really sorry you had to find out this way. I was going to tell you about Kevin when we got further along, it’s just… it’s so hard…” He fought tears again.

 

“And… all this?” McGee looked at the screens then back.

 

“I don’t know. I thought about it when you asked about the tattoos before, but-- I mean, you told me you were a federal agent! Was I really supposed to just open up about illegal stuff I had done only 2 years ago? I knew how it looked, and even Gibbs had it wrong. Oh, _god_ …”

 

“You could’ve trusted me. I let you in! What am I supposed to think now?” McGee couldn’t hold himself back.

 

“You’re supposed to think that it was MY business, MY past, and I would tell you when _I_ was ready!” A tear fell from his eye. “I never lied about how I felt about you. Hell, I wouldn’t even BE here if it were anyone else.”

 

McGee saw the tear drop onto David’s cheek, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort him. He felt like he had opened up and the other man betrayed his trust

 

“I never should have brought you into this.”

 

“Yes, you should’ve,” David sniffed looked up with a fierce expression in his eyes. “You’re the only one that can pull off the cover we need before I’m brought in, and I need to be here to make sure you get out of there alive.”

 

“What are you talking about?” McGee looked puzzled and felt frustrated. “I’m tired of the guessing games and half-truths. I deserve to know everything, _now_.”

 

David narrowed his eyes at McGee. “I promised Gibbs I would keep you safe, and that my experience would get us through this. We have to go undercover to get into the ring. I have to become ‘Orion Marks’ again, but I can’t just show up. I’ll need your help. But if you have a personal problem with my history, then feel free to _go_ _fuck yourself_ when all this is over because _no_ , you didn’t _deserve_ to know all the shit I’d been through and you have no right to make me feel guilty about it now. I have only known you in person for 2 months! That doesn’t get you access to years of pain and anguish.”

 

The color washed out of McGee’s face. He’d never seen this side of David. He never imagined that David’s eyes, always so warm and inviting, could be so intense and angry. They were angry at him. He didn’t know this David. This… _Orion._

 

“You’re going undercover? You’re going back to… that?” he said, pointing at the screen.

 

“I told Gibbs I didn’t want to. It was the darkest time of my life and I would give anything not to be in this position. But he told me there are things more important than how I feel right now, and he’s right.”

 

“Gibbs hasn’t told me anything about this.”

 

“I know, but he will. Once you said there was evidence of something bigger, I realized there’s no other choice. We need to know who we’re dealing with, and I won’t be able to make it past the first airlock without being recognized. We need someone to go in and scout things out, feel things out with a few races. People let their guard down around celebrities, and you’re the closest celebrity we know.”

 

McGee was flabbergasted. “Me? Race? With what? I have no experience outside of video games! And like you said, we don’t even know who we’re dealing with yet. How can you be so sure you’ll know what to do? After all this, how can I trust anything you say?!”

 

David looked hurt by McGee’s words, but never took his eyes off of him.

 

“Because if it were anyone else involved but you, I’d be long gone. And it could be you on the side of the road next time. The thought of keeping someone I love off a slab somewhere is worth the pain of everything I’m having to do. If that’s not good enough…” David paused.

 

McGee was frozen in place. He was back on the edge of a cliff, with solitary safety on one side and David on the other. He heard him say ‘love,’ and his brain was trying to register what it meant but it was getting lost in this whole other life that was just unearthed before him. David had valid points that they had only known each other for a very short period of time, and even if David had told him about all of this, would he have been prepared to hear it? He wanted the David from this morning back, the one who didn’t have any history, the one who was just there for McGee. But he was faced with a choice between this David, who held out his dark baggage and damaged heart for McGee to take, or the safety and loneliness of a cold bed. He wasn’t ready to choose. But sometimes not choosing says enough.

 

Seeing McGee’s indecision, David slowly nodded his head, fighting back tears, and walked out of the lab without another word.

 

McGee stood in place, gently shaking, mind spinning. He didn’t even register the thudding of Abby’s boots as she darted down the stairs to his side. She looked at McGee’s face with a worried expression on her own, then wrapped him in a vice-grip hug.

 

“Oh Timmy…” she said, gripping tighter and tighter.

 

“He said--” His voice broke and his breathing was shallow.

 

“I know,” she interrupted. “I heard everything. Cameras.”

 

“I can’t…”

 

“I know…”

 

“Oh god, Abby, did I just make a huge mistake?”

 

She held him tighter, but this time said, “I don’t know, Timmy. I don’t know.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

NCIS

 

Tony and Ziva began their drive to Summit Point to see where Bronston had done his racing. Tony won the coin toss to determine who drove. Fifteen minutes into their drive, Tony had astonished Ziva by remaining quiet since the drive began, and they had another hour or so to go. At first, she enjoyed the quiet, but it was unusual and therefore uncomfortable, and it meant something was obviously wrong with Tony.

 

“I’ve never seen you this quiet before,” she said, just barely breaking the silence.

 

“When were you going to tell me?” Tony responded through gritted teeth.

 

“About?”

 

“You know what about. McGee and David, together.”

 

“It wasn’t my place to say.”

 

“Well, when was _he_ going to tell me?”

 

“Are we really having this conversation again? If you want to be a part of McGee’s personal life you have to--”

 

“Oh _stop it_ already, I’m just surprised is all, and I hate being surprised. I should’ve known.”

 

“The only way you could’ve known is by being there for McGee. You probably would’ve figured a lot more out about him if you had spent more time actually listening to him and being actual friends than pranking him or teasing him with every chance you had.”

 

“Oh really, and you did that?”

 

“Yes! I was even there when things were first developing with David. Admittedly, I had to drag it out of him a little, but I let him know I was there, that I had his back, and took an interest.”

 

“You sound like every shrink on the planet talking to my father about how to raise a child. And for the record, you helped McGee ‘take an interest’ in a criminal.”

 

“He’s not a cri--” she stopped herself and took a moment to reconsider, “Ok well he’s not perfect but he acted exactly like one should to avenge the death of a loved one. That, to me, proves loyalty. And it’s not like he actually killed the guy! Gibbs wouldn’t have even let him back in the door if he did.”

 

“So you’re saying you approve of him and Probie?”

 

“He obviously cares for McGee, and is trying to make up for his mistakes.”

 

“Yeah, well we’ll see when this case is over. Personally, I don’t think it’ll happen. McGee’s too good of a Boy Scout to have someone like that bringing him down. Not to mention his family. That conversation will definitely not go over well.”

 

They arrived at the track, and Tony immediately fell in love. Signs pointed to various circuits, supercars and professional racing teams were lined up for their turn on tracks, and there were large screens everywhere so you could keep in on the action on each track wherever you were. There was a large building with stands, offices, food areas, and an observation deck overlooking the multiple tracks and lots. Tony got distracted so many times he almost hit a very expensive-looking Aston Martin. They eventually parked and found an employee who directed them to the owner’s office.

 

“Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and Officer Ziva David, NCIS,” Tony said as he closed the office door.

 

“Charles Breslin,” the man answered. He was a portly man with a handlebar moustache and rough hands, wearing professional but casual clothes. “NCIS? Don’t think I’ve ever heard of you.”

 

“We’re investigating the death of an officer,” Ziva held up his picture, “Chief Petty Officer Warren Bronston. We believe he frequented the track.”

 

“Hmm… doesn’t look familiar but there are so many faces, I can’t possibly remember them all. Was he a professional driver, or amateur?”

 

“Amateur, from what we could tell,” Tony answered. “He drove a yellow Shelby GT500, usually on the weekends.”

 

“Sounds about right. Usually the weekday is set aside for corporate events, training, and pro practice. Weekends, the amateurs come out to play with their toys. We don’t do much in the way of large races here, especially not with amateurs. They’re too much of a risk, so we have them run time trials, best of three. People stay all day trying to beat each other’s times. We do a sort of 50/50 where people can pay to be part of a larger pool based on their class of vehicle, and whoever gets the best times gets half the pot. Other half we usually pick some charity at the beginning of the month to give it to. Makes the guys look good in front of their wives and girlfriends.”

 

“Do the drivers ever get involved in any… altercations?” Ziva asked.

 

“Occasionally, macho pride and all. If anyone gets too rowdy I boot their ass outta here. I got enough trouble making sure someone doesn’t wreck themselves. Everyone signs waivers, but crashes are still nasty and bad for reputation. I don’t remember the face, but I think I remember the car here doing laps. I think he did well.”

 

“He also got parts and work done here,” Tony added.

 

“Every amateur that wants to be like the pros tries to look good in front of the scouts. A couple of people have made their careers starting right here. It helps sell parts and labor, and keeps them coming back for more instead of just getting their rocks off one time.”

 

“What about after hours?”

 

Breslin looked surprised that the question was asked, but the look in his eyes told Ziva he knew exactly what happened at night.

 

“We’re closed, locked down,” he said with a slight stutter.

 

“Mr. Breslin,” she started, “we’re not here to question your business practices, we’re here investigating a death. Any information you could give us that could shed some light on it would be much appreciated.”

 

He looked down, knowing he was caught. “Ok, well, there’s a company that pays us every month for track time for its employees on the weekends, late at night, off the books and schedules. They keep the track and space clean, they get to come back. Been like that for a year now and never had any trouble.”

 

“We’ll need to see your security footage and transaction receipts.” Ziva asked.

 

Breslin looked away.

 

“Mr. Breslin, we have a warrant but any information you provide us pertaining to our investigation will stay in our investigation. We’re not partnering with the IRS as long as you don’t give us reason to,” Tony said smugly.

 

“Ok, ok…” he said, going into a locked file cabinet in the corner of the room. “Look, I told them we turned the cameras off at night, but I didn’t want to risk anything so I kept them on. If anyone asks, you didn’t get these from me.”

 

“I doubt anyone will ask so long as you don’t tell.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

NCIS

 

Gibbs walked out of MTAC with mild frustration showing on his face. Bronston’s C.O. had no idea what Bronston had been up to in his personal life, had never once heard him mention ‘Legion’ or anything about underground racing. He now just had to figure out a viable option to get evidence on the crew that Vance would allow. His phone rang and he pulled it out on his way down the stairs.

 

“Yeah?”

 

 _“Boss,”_ Tony said from the other end, _“Owner gave us security footage, but got a sneak peek before we left. Our crew was definitely using the track on nights when Bronston was there. They paid the owner monthly with a bank account under a company name, most likely a shell.”_

“Send the information to McGee so we can look at it while you check the airport.”

 

_“On it.”_

 

Gibbs closed his phone as he walked into the bullpen to see McGee and Abby sitting at his desk. He noticed that they were one person short.

 

“Where’s David?”

 

McGee and Abby looked nervously at each other, then back to Gibbs.

 

“He, um---” Abby started.

 

“Kind of left…” McGee finished.

 

Gibbs frowned. “Track him,” he quickly ordered.

 

“I can’t, he left his phone on my desk,” McGee held up David’s phone.

 

Gibbs closed his eyes and heaved a frustrated sigh. McGee blew it. Without opening his eyes, he simply said, “Find him.”

 

“I’m trying, boss. I’m going through security trying to see when he left.”

 

Gibbs heard the elevator and looked over. “Don’t bother, _Elflord_. Found him.”

 

McGee and Abby looked up, then both gasped in surprise. David now embodied his old self, Orion Marks. He re-pierced his ears with 2 studs in each lobe, added an eyebrow piercing on his right side, his hair was dyed bright blue, his beard was shaved, and his nails were black. Where he once wore casual jeans and a t-shirt, he now wore black cargo pants, a blue shirt that matched his hair, and a black military-style coat.

 

McGee’s jaw dropped at the transformation. His stomach then lurched as David walked towards the bullpen such that McGee could see his ears were red and puffy, and there was a small amount of dried blood where his eyebrow had just been pierced. Gibbs scanned David’s appearance and nodded at the likeness to his old photograph.

 

“Oh my _god…_ David, does it--” McGee started to ask if the piercings hurt.

 

“Yes,” David interrupted but didn’t look at McGee, instead looking only at Gibbs. “What did you find?”

 

“C.O. was a dead end, but Tony and Ziva confirmed the track as one of the hangouts.”

 

“Ok, if you know their hangout, can’t you just go in and arrest them at their next meet?”

 

“We don’t know when it’ll be,” McGee replied, David barely turning his head in acknowledgement, “and their gathering is not enough for evidence of criminal activity and us moving in. We need something connecting them to our murder to give us cause and jurisdiction.”

 

“Right now all we have is that we _think_ one of them killed our man,” Gibbs continued. “If we get them all on something more, we can take the whole ring down. Have you thought about how we’ll get in?”

 

“Yes. It’ll have to be a 3-part attack. Someone there most likely has alerted the crew that DiNozzo showed up, so now they’ll be on the lookout for someone like him to come back. So for the first part, we play dumb and send him back. New car, plates, attitude, exactly what we want them to think we’re looking for. Meanwhile, we send the second part, the bored celebrity,” he said, pointing behind him towards McGee. “Already has the Porsche, and as a writer with actual publishing credit, he’s most likely not working with the government compared to DiNozzo. Once he’s through the airlock, and we’ve confirmed some kind of target, we send me with my own car at the right time and place with the appearance of me looking for a new ring to conquer.”

 

“Aren’t you exiled?”

 

“Whether they recognize me or not, I can at least challenge my way through again. Between that and whatever McGee can find, we may be able to use one of their plates to get an owner, and the owner’s gun. That’ll tie him to your murder, and you can move in for an arrest.”

 

McGee flinched. He wasn’t used to hearing David call him anything but ‘Tim.’ McGee usually made the distinction himself, being ‘McGee’ at work and just ‘Tim’ at home. Abby usually blurred those lines, but David never had before. That, and the fact that David wouldn’t even look at him right now gave McGee an uneasy feeling.

 

“How exactly is McGee getting in, and how is DiNozzo going to provide enough of a distraction?” Gibbs continued.

 

“I can only think of one way, and I don’t think you’ll like it.”

 

“Let’s hear it.”

 

“I have to go back to an old contact to get my car back. He can also set us up with a new car, upgrades for McGee’s Porsche, and a space to practice up in PA where this ring isn’t present. I can train them both on racing, and will help race in McGee’s place for the more advanced challenges to get more attention. Abby will need to create plates that won’t link back to either of them.”

 

“You’re expecting us to spring for a new car, parts, and forged plates?” Gibbs said with a raised eyebrow and a hint of sarcasm.

 

“Not forged if it’s part of a government operation. And no, I will. I’ll also finance the track entry and any wagers. But in return I will also negotiate any and all dealings with my contact, keep the new car when we’re done, and any winnings made along the way. McGee can keep the upgrades.”

 

McGee wasn’t sure if he should say “Thank You” or not. He didn’t know how much this would cost, but his Porsche was going to be tampered with and upgraded to something he wasn’t sure he could handle. He thought about asking if they could be removed, but if this was David’s way of giving him a gift or an apology, he didn’t want to risk sounding like an asshole.

 

“You’re taking Ziva with you. Not sending a civilian alone, regardless of what experience you have.”

 

“Fair enough. Especially if things go wrong it’ll be good to have an agent already with me.”

 

“Once you’re in,” Gibbs continued, “What exactly are you looking to find that makes this all worth it?”

 

“If after completing the challenges they accept me, I’ll be far enough in that they’ll bring me up to speed on whatever they’re doing that got Bronston killed. That should be enough to bring it all down, not just one guy.”

 

Gibbs smirked and gave David an impressed look. “When Tony and Ziva get back, pitch it to Vance and see if he’ll bite.” With that, he left the bullpen for some coffee.

 

After a quiet moment, McGee tried to speak up. “David--”

 

“Where’s the gym in here?” he interrupted, looking toward McGee, but almost like he was trying to look around him and avoid his eyes.

 

“It’s uh, on the second floor. But David, can we--” he was cut off by David quickly walking away, leaving McGee and Abby in the bullpen.

 

“Dammit.” McGee sat at his desk and cradled his face with his hands. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

 

“Yeah, I think so. It sucks, but, I kinda get it,” she said.

 

“What do you mean?” he looked up at her.

 

“Look Tim, I support whatever direction you want to take with this, ok? Just, I kinda get how he’s feeling. It’s a really sucky situation. At first I was really ready to kill him because I thought he was this criminal we never caught, but then it turned out to be something else entirely. And when I really thought about it, it was his life and he definitely should’ve told you, but on his terms. Instead his hand got forced. Now he’s feeling alone and in pain, and… if he didn’t really love you, he wouldn’t be.”

 

“What do you think I should do?”

 

“Do you love him?”

 

McGee thought long and hard. He had been wrestling with that thought since David had said that word. What did it feel like to ‘love’ someone versus just liking them? Whenever McGee sat down at his desk, he kept remembering that day in the garage where David stood behind him. But right now instead of his heat, McGee felt his absence. His right hand felt empty without the warmth of David’s left hand in it. He could hear his apartment, quiet as the sound of another person’s breathing would no longer be there. The pendant that lay on his chest above his heart felt cold and like it didn’t belong, because it belonged to David and now McGee didn’t. He was incomplete. More than that, David was hurting because McGee put him in this situation. David was there for him before, and when McGee’s chance came he didn't return the favor. He already broke the promise he made to himself to never let David go, and he hated himself for it now.

 

“Yes, you do,” she answered for him, knowing his face all too well.

 

He looked up at her, his eyes watering and his lip quivering, and nodded. “It’s too late, though. My David is gone.”

 

“He’s still here, Tim. He just has a costume on. And as long as he’s here, it’s not too late.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

NCIS

 

Gibbs sipped his coffee before slipping past Vance’s secretary into his office.

 

“Ah, Gibbs, how goes the hunt?” Vance said expectantly, not looking up from his desk.

 

“The kid’s helping, has a plan to go undercover but it’s going to take time. Murder looks like it’s tied to a larger crime ring.”

 

“If you want a vacation, just say so. You don’t need to go undercover every time you want to get away from the MCRT,” Vance said with a smirk. “How expensive are we talking?”

 

“I won’t spoil it for you, I’ll let him brief you once Ziva and Tony come back. Kid could be one of my agents, sharp, smart, committed. He even went out and got a bunch of holes in his ears for his cover.”

 

“That’s unusual dedication, especially from a civilian. Last time we spoke, you had to put pressure on him. Why the ‘180’ all of a sudden?”

 

“Just used the right kind of pressure, Leon.” Gibbs smiled and turned to leave. “I’ll call you when we’re ready.”

 

 _‘Oh, joy,’_ Vance thought to himself.

 

NCIS

 

Tony and Ziva circled the rural airport for 15 minutes trying to find an open entrance. The area was so rural that GPS and cell signals were almost non-existent, but they finally found on not very far from where they first looked. Ziva, once again, sat shotgun because, once again, she lost the coin toss with Tony. She started to suspect the authenticity of the quarter he was using for these decisions.

 

The airstrip looked mostly deserted, a few Cessnas were littered about the field and in the hangars, but they found nothing luxurious until they happened upon a Mercedes-Benz in the main hangar. They kept yelling “Hello” until an elderly man with a bad hip slowly came out from one of the offices.

 

“Ah, quit your yappin, I’ll be right down,” he yelled from a platform.

 

Tony gave Ziva an amused look. Then once the man finally approached them Tony asked, “Lester Haltze?”

 

“That’s me, young man. Who are you?”

 

“Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and Officer Ziva David, NCIS.”

 

“NC-what?” he said with a confused look on his face.

 

“NCIS,” Tony repeated, “Naval Criminal Investigative Service.”

 

“Navy? I think you got the wrong place. This is an airfield.”

 

“Sir, we’re investigating this man,” Ziva offered Bronston’s picture to the man, who held it up close so he could see.

 

“I don’t recognize him, my dear, but I barely recognize what I ate for breakfast!” He chuckled.

 

“What kind of activity does this airport see? Seems somewhat remote,” Tony commented.

 

“Oh, well mostly beginners fly in and out of here. Most of the time, they fly to Philadelphia to get practice over a variety of conditions. I teach an intermediate flying class.”

 

“Does anyone use this airstrip for anything other than flying?” Ziva asked.

 

Haltze’s hands started to shake. He quickly recovered by putting them behind him, “Oh, uh, no dear. Flying’s really all an airport is good for.”

 

Tony raised his eyebrow in suspicion, and eyed the old man’s twitching arms. “Sir, we have reason to believe some people used this airport for vehicles that don’t fly, and anyone impeding our investigation would be considered guilty of obstruction.”

 

“Now wait, just hold on there,” his look changed to one of desperation. “Yes, a-- a few times a month some kids come with their loud cars and they drive on my strip when no one’s using it, but they’re good kids. They wouldn’t tell me their names but they helped me with my medical bills since I gave them a safe place to play. I… probably wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for their help. I don’t know what you’re up to, but they wouldn’t do anything to your man.”

 

“Do you have any security tapes of the hangars or the strip?”

 

“No, no. Anyone with any sense wouldn’t try and steal a plane this close to DC without officially filing a plan, which can only be done by me. They’d be shot down before even taking the gear up.”

 

“Thank you for your time,” Tony said while turning back for their car.

 

Once they were both inside and the doors were closed, he whispered to Ziva, “Did you tell him something happened to our guy?”

 

“Nope, just that we were investigating him.”

 

“What do you want to bet he’s in deeper than the track owner?”

 

“The same that I’d bet that your coin is the same on both sides.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony quickly said while he turned on the engine and put the car in gear to drive off.

 

NCIS

 

McGee waited a little while before searching the building’s gym for David. He knew they’d both need cool heads to sort through this. His search met with little success until he went into the men's showers and locker rooms. David had just finished his shower, and emerged still damp with the towel around his waist. They were both somewhat shocked to see each other. McGee looked at David. He still had to adjust to the change in the other’s face, but noticed his eyes were puffy. He looked down at the hand holding up his towel, and saw his knuckles were bruised from using the punching bag too hard.

 

McGee tried to reach for him, but David lifted his hand to stop him and said, “Don’t. Just don’t.” He turned and sat down on a bench and rummaged through his bag for his clothes.

 

Tim’s walls fell. He couldn’t take this anymore. “I screwed up,” he said, just loudly enough for David to hear him.

 

David stopped, still looking at the floor, hand still in his bag. He sniffed.

 

“You were right. You should’ve been able to tell me everything when you were ready. Just… it all happened so fast and it made me question everything I thought I knew about you… about us.” Tim looked from David to the floor, and slowly back to see if David had moved.

 

David quietly said, “Yeah,” then put on his underwear under the towel.

 

“I’m really sorry,” Tim said with his heart and his eyes.

 

David slipped on his shirt, looked up at Tim quickly then looked back down, and nodded his head.

 

Tim continued, “I wasn’t ready to tell you ‘I love you’ in the lab because I just felt so lost, and I had been flying so high with you before that I didn’t even know what to call the feeling.”

 

“Don’t…” David whispered.

 

“But I think I’m ready now.”

 

“Don’t,” David said louder. “Don’t say it now. Don’t say it out of pain, or guilt, or pity, or just because I said it first or because I can’t look at you without breaking my heart. Don’t do that to me, McGee. I’ve been through enough.” David buried his face in his bruised hands.

 

Tim slowly approached him, then went down on his knees in front of him. He took one of David’s hands tenderly in both of his.

 

“I’m saying it because I’m ready. Because I can’t imagine my life without you in it, and I never want to.”

 

David breathed sharply, and Tim’s eyes welled.

 

“I love you, David O’Malley.”

 

David broke down sobbing, and pulled Tim into a tight embrace as they both cried together.

 

Through the fabric of Tim’s shirt, he heard David say, “I love you, Timmy McGee. My Tim.”

 

“My David.”

 

After a few minutes, Tim pulled back and gave each of David’s knuckles a kiss.

 

“You know, there are gloves we wear so this doesn’t happen,” Tim tried to joke.

 

“I know, I wore them,” David choked out a laugh. “My workout regimen is so imbalanced. My stamina is a joke but I can lift anything.”

 

They laughed and tipped their foreheads together like they usually did, though this time, David pulled away.

 

“Ow,” he said, lightly chuckling, and massaging the area surrounding his new eyebrow piercing.

 

“Oh, sorry. I can’t believe you did all this just for a cover. What will your coworkers think?”

 

“Ugh, forget the piercings. Shaving my beard was the hardest part of all of this. I don’t think any of them have seen my chin before.”

 

They both chuckled again and Tim leaned his head in, making sure to avoid David’s right eyebrow this time. He stroked David’s face with the back of his fingers.

 

“You’re still _Scruffy_ to me,” Tim whispered.

 

“My _Elflord_ ,” David said as he plucked one of Tim’s ears. “I’m sorry I’ve been so angry. I just-- I never wanted to be _this_ again,” he ran his fingers through his damp blue hair and looked at his painted nails.

 

“Shh… It’s ok.”

 

“No, it’s not. I should’ve trusted you and given you time. I was afraid… I was afraid you’d look at me the same way I used to look at myself in the mirror when I was like this. I couldn’t bear to think about that same look in your eyes that I saw in mine.”

 

“Don’t be afraid. It took me a little bit, but… this, the piercings, the hair, the dark clothes, it doesn’t matter.” He placed his hand over David’s heart. “ _This_ matters. You can pierce and tattoo yourself from head to toe, but _this_ will always be My David.”

 

“Could you…” David started, “say it again?”

 

“I love you, all of you. And I’m here,” Tim answered, and they shared a kiss that sparked Tim’s world back to life. The pendant over his heart felt warm and in its right place again, his apartment was filled with music and laughter, and the familiar heat of the other man’s body wrapped around him and drew him in like a magnet.

 

Tim slipped his hands around David’s waist and felt the skin between his shirt and the towel. David opened his mouth to let Tim’s tongue invade, and began tugging at his shirt while Tim slid his hands under the towel down to David’s ass.

 

Between kisses David managed to say, “Are you sure? We’re at work.”

 

“I have never needed anything more than I need you right now,” Tim said quietly.

 

Tim pulled David’s shirt off as David undid Tim’s belt and shirt. David reached into his bag to take out a small bottle of lube, then pulled Tim into the shower and turned on the water. They kissed and lashed tongues for a few minutes as the water heated and cascaded around them. Tim left wet kisses down David’s body as he pushed him against the wall. Down on his knees, Tim faced his target, and took David into his mouth. David pressed his arm against the wall to stabilize himself and put his other hand on Tim’s head, guiding him back and forth while entwining his fingers in the other man’s hair. Tim’s other hand groped up David’s leg until he began to squeeze his ass. Tim’s tongue swirled naturally around David’s cock, causing him to gasp loudly.

 

Tim then seized David’s hand on his head and pushed him up against the other shower wall. Tim was now grinding his cock between David’s water-slicked cheeks while nibbling down his lover’s neck.

 

“Please…” David pleaded, “In…”

 

Tim took the lube from David’s hand and slicked up his cock. He guided it to his target and felt the pressure break as his head slid in. David hissed as Tim slid his one hand between David’s chest and the wall while pulling David’s head back against his. Tim slowly pressed his hips forward until he felt his base meet David’s ass. David was tight, and his warmth combined with the risky situation and the steaming water made Tim sure that he wouldn’t last long.

 

“Oh god…” He whispered into David’s ear.

 

“Fuck me, baby. Show me I’m yours.”

 

“Mine, love you” Tim said with a thrust forward.

 

David pushed his hand over Tim’s on his chest and brought his other hand down to Tim’s ass as they both gripped their bodies closer together. Tim pumped his hips while David gently moaned with each thrust. David’s panting became harder as Tim pumped faster.

 

“Tim, I’m gonna--”

 

David’s moan got cut off as his body shook, sending tightening ripples along his channel onto Tim’s cock. Tim couldn’t handle it and slammed as hard as he could into David, letting his load flood into his lover.

 

They stayed for a moment. Tim held tightly onto David as if he might disappear. Their breathing slowed, and Tim felt himself slip out from David’s entry.

 

David turned and pulled Tim close to him.

 

“Love you,” he said softly.

 

“Love you too,” Tim replied.

 

The sound of the falling water echoed in the now quiet room.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

NCIS

 

Gibbs, Abby, Ziva, and Tony were waiting in the bullpen. Ziva was filling Gibbs in on the details of their encounters at the track and the hanger. Tony was on his computer filtering through the track’s security footage, trying to isolate people and pair them with their car, hoping to catch the murderer. Abby was sitting at McGee’s desk, wondering how their talk was going, until she saw the elevator open and how David and McGee emerged together, smiling and glowing.

 

She stood up, gasped, and squealed excitedly as she saw them holding hands. The other three looked up at her, then in the direction of the couple. David and McGee saw the attention, and dropped their hands to maintain some manner of professionalism.

 

Gibbs reached for his phone and quickly told Vance’s secretary they were ready.

 

Abby looked at them like she was expecting them to make a speech or an announcement, but instead McGee turned to Tony and Ziva.

 

“So, did you guys get any luck at the track and airport?” he asked.

 

“Oh, I think it’s a ‘getting lucky’ kind of day all around, _McGlowing,_ ” Tony snickered.

 

“Tony,” Ziva tried to warn him while stifling a giggle of her own.

 

“Oh come on, I’ve been holding onto that one for years,” Tony retorted.

 

McGee tried to stop smiling as the red flush filled his face. David just didn’t bother.

 

Vance came sweeping into the bullpen, but had to do a double-take upon seeing David’s extensive makeover since his last DMV photo.

 

“Assistant Director Leon Vance,” he tentatively offered his hand, which David shook.

 

“David O’Malley. Did Agent Gibbs fill you in on the idea I had for getting into the ring?”

 

“He told me you had one, but wanted you to brief me personally.”

 

David relayed the plan to Vance exactly as he told it to Gibbs. Vance slowly started to consider the idea more and more, eventually looking past the hair, piercings, and age to see someone with the knowledge and experience to actually pull this off.

 

“How exactly are you planning to get the car for DiNozzo?”

 

“My contact should be able to provide both the upgraded car and the upgrades for Tim’s car.”

 

McGee smiled. It was nice to hear David use his regular name again.

 

“That’s going to be rather expensive. I hope you’re not looking for a loan from NCIS,” Vance warned.

 

“Not at all, as long as NCIS isn’t looking for receipts nor any of the winnings accrued during the operation,” David said with a cheeky smile.

 

 _‘He’s definitely one of Gibbs’.’_ Vance thought to himself. “How long will this take?”

 

“Depends. I need to see how long it will take to get the three cars ready, then another two days training up in PA where we won’t be observed. I want to be ready by Saturday to establish presence and membership, then two more days of practice next week for grabbing attention next weekend. I can offer my home for us to stay during training if it helps.”

 

“You’re being awfully generous and cooperative for someone with a record like yours. What exactly is in this for you? You understand my concerns that you might be too close to this.”

 

David looked at Gibbs, who looked at McGee, then back. “What’s in it for me is that I’m stopping what happened here from happening to someone else. Two and a half years ago I did this for the wrong reasons. This time it’s for the right ones.”

 

Vance considered it for a moment, staring hard into David’s eyes. He finally nodded.

 

David took out a burner phone he had bought while he was out, dialed a contact he had copied from his own phone, and put it on speaker.

 

 _“Hello?”_ a man’s deep voice boomed over the speaker.

 

“Hello, Bone.”

 

The other line was silent for a moment. _“Naw,”_ he eventually said.

 

“It’s Orion.”

 

The man broke out laughing on the other end. _“Aw shit! What’s up, baby? You comin’ back? I knew you couldn’t leave all this behind forever, I just knew it.”_

David smiled, “It’s not quite that simple.”

 

_“Oh well let me guess, ‘I want to scratch the itch one more time, when can the car be ready?’”_

 

“I’ll do you one better. I also need a high-B muscle car, and parts to upgrade an ‘06 Porsche Boxster to compete with it. I also need a space where we can privately run them for a couple of days this week and next.”

 

_“No shit, are you trainin’ people now?”_

“In a manner of speaking. I need whatever time I can get before the weekend and two more days next week, entirely private.”

_“Hell if you’re buying one of my rides you can have the track whenever you want.”_

“How soon do you think they can be ready?”

 

_“Well the muscle I already have one ready for sale, ‘07 Mustang GT, upgraded to 550 HP, bright red, perfect for a tool.”_

“Spot on,” David said, causing McGee and Ziva to stifle deep laughs. David sent Tony a wink, trying to not let him feel too bad about his role. “Send me the VIN. What about the rest?”

 

_“I can prep your car tonight, and if you bring me the Porsche tomorrow morning I can have it done by the end of the day.”_

David muted the phone, then looked up at Gibbs and Vance and said, “That’ll give us 3 days to train, only two with the Porsche but still should be enough.” He unmuted the phone. “Sounds good.  How much?”

 

_“Car will run you 80, parts another 30.”_

“What? Think I was born yesterday? 60 and 15.”

 

_“75 and 25.”_

“70 and 18, and I won't ask where the parts came from.”

 

_“Oh I’ve missed you. Welcome back!”_

David ended the call, looking quite pleased with himself.

 

Vance looked slightly puzzled and slightly amused that almost $90,000 was just plunked down by a twenty-something-year-old over a phone call. “So now what?” he asked.

 

“Tim and Tony will need new IDs that will float through a background check. I’ll need my old one, and since it’s already in the system, changing it to an older version shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll also need plates for the new car and for Tim’s Porsche to match their IDs.”

 

“What about your car and its plate?”

 

“Bone’s kept mine valid ever since I left it with him, and I’ve never worked for the government so I don’t need a cover. Plus I had used a false address to buy it so it still shouldn’t link back to me.”

 

“McGee, Abby, plates and IDs,” Gibbs ordered.

 

“I’ll send you guys the VIN once I have it,” David called to them as they left the bullpen.

 

Gibbs turned to Tony, “DiNozzo, what do you have from the video?”

 

“Probably about 30 people based on entry at the gate, but looks like they covered up cameras in most of their gathering places. I have a confirmed sighting of Bronston’s car,” Tony clicked a few buttons and showed a clip of Bronston’s yellow Shelby racing against 5 other tuned cars. At some point around 1:30 AM this past Sunday, he left the track with those same five others while everyone else was still partying. I managed to get rough images people and their cars from the track cameras, though.” Tony clicked a bit more and five sets of photos came up on the screen. “The details on the people are blurry but we can at least get a general description. Three of the cars are red, and could belong to our killer. I can’t get any plates, they all have covers over them.”

 

“That places them all at the Airport, narrows us down to five targets,” Gibbs nodded.

 

David didn’t expect to see anyone familiar until his eyes landed on the third profile, then he nearly punched the TV.

 

“You recognize one of them?” Gibbs asked, looking at the pictures.

 

“That one,” he pointed at the profile. The picture showed a skinny, bald man stepping out of a red Ford GT with painted tribal stripes down the sides. “Please tell me you can boost this resolution to get facial recognition,” he looked over at Tony, who shook his head.

 

“Who is he?” Gibbs asked.

 

“We called him ‘Special K.’ Never knew his real name, but I’d recognize that car anywhere. He was one of the ring leaders that pushed for my exile. He was always such a pompous ass.”

 

“What’s he doing down here?”

 

“I have no idea. His ring up north must’ve been busted, so he moved down here.”

 

“Think he’ll recognize you?”

 

“Yes, and that’s good. This way my challenge will be even more validated because of an old judgment. Plus, he’ll associate my showing up with me tracking him, not someone letting me in. Gives Tim a safer out.”

 

“What about a safer out for you and Ziva?” Gibbs gave him a scrutinizing look.

 

“We’ll be ok. We’re just there to get information. All we need to do is connect him to some kind of criminal activity. Once we have something concrete, you can send people in to arrest everyone, and link them to your guy’s murder.”

 

“All right then. But by the way, I don’t care if we will be at your place, no sleeping with McGee on the job,” Gibbs ordered before delivering David’s first-ever head-smack and walking away.

 

Ziva sat quietly giggling in her chair as David turned around with a confused look.

 

“So that’s a ‘Gibbs smack,’ huh? Does that mean I’m part of the team now?” David asked as he rubbed the back of his head.

 

“Loosely translated, yes,” Tony explained, “but it could just as easily mean ‘If you knock up McGee, you have to marry him.’”

 

Ziva fell out of her chair.

 


	12. Chapter 12

NCIS

 

It was close to 9 PM when David’s Mini, Tim’s Porsche, and an NCIS fleet sedan pulled into the quiet lot of David’s condo complex. It took time for Abby and McGee to finish establishing the IDs, and everyone had to pack then meet back at Tim’s for the drive up to West Grove. Ziva rode with David, Tony rode with Gibbs, and Tim drove by himself out of fear of Tony’s bad luck ruining his luxury car.

 

David’s condo was on the left end of the row, and had a simple concrete walkway leading to it. The front had a stone facade and a bay window looking out from the kitchen. Entering the home, the first thing everyone noticed was the large kitchen littered with high-end stainless steel appliances and chef’s utensils. The rest of the kitchen was sleek, black wood with light gray stone tile floors and white granite countertops. The gas range was fit into a large rectangular island in the middle of the kitchen with room around it for people to sit.

 

The rest of the downstairs seemed rather average compared to the kitchen. The living room held a deep sofa and coffee table facing the TV. The desk where David kept his laptop was tucked in the corner with his other acoustic guitar, also facing the TV. Each wall was lined with bookshelves, which also held decorations and David’s surround sound system. On the side wall, stairs led up, and had a bathroom tucked underneath. On the furthest wall, double sliding doors opened to a small yard surrounded by a tall wooden fence. David’s grill, two seats, and a colorful hammock were spread around the space. Lights stretched above the space from poles stationed at each corner of the fence.

 

“How much did all this cost, if you don’t mind my asking?” Ziva asked.

 

“Well, the house was about $250,000, then I dropped another 15 just on the kitchen. Had to take out some of the hallway and living room to make it big enough,” David replied. “It was totally worth it, though. That kitchen is my heaven.”

 

Upstairs held the master suite and guest bedroom, along with a separate guest bath. In the master bathroom sat an oversized tub with water jets, over which Tony and Ziva drooled.

 

“Well, this is it. Ziva, you can take the master bedroom, Gibbs, guest,” David said as he was figuring out this many people in his space, “Tim and Tony you two can duke it out between the sofa and the air mattress.”

 

“What about you?” Tim asked.

 

“I’ll take the hammock. I sleep out there a lot anyway, and it’s supposed to be clear for the next week so I’m not worried.”

 

“I can sleep on the floor,” Tim said trying to be considerate. “You should have a bed or the sofa at least. It’s your place.”

 

David smiled, saying “I’ll think about it.”

 

As they all turned to explore the house, Gibbs head-smacked Tim. “Save it for after.”

 

Gibbs went to Ziva, and in hushed tones he said, “You and McGee take the guest room, DiNozzo and I will take downstairs. Make sure he doesn’t wander.”

 

David opened a top cabinet in the kitchen which stored a couple of bottles of wine and other alcohol, and brought a few options down for the team while taking a soda from the fridge for himself. Ziva poured herself a glass of wine then bolted upstairs with it to get first dibs on the jacuzzi. Tim helped Tony set up the inflatable mattress in the living room beside the couch. Gibbs joined David outside, sitting in one of the chairs sipping bourbon while David laid down in the hammock plucking randomly at his new guitar.

 

“So, Gibbs,” David turned to look at the man. “What do you think of all of this? Like, really?”

 

“All of what?”

 

“Every time I lay back out here, I look back on how I got to this point in my day or in my week. So I’m just trying to think of where we are right now.”

 

“You’re nervous.”

 

“I mean, in context I still think the plan works, but out here it just seems nuts. Literally two days ago, just two days, I was out here thinking that I’d simply be getting some time away from my bakery and spending it with Tim. Now, fast forward to today, I’ve got four more people in my house getting ready to do something I never imagined doing again. Just, wow. Of all the turns to take in two days. You ever sit back and think of your day like that?”

 

“Every day after every case. That’s why I build boats.”

 

“And roast steak on the fire,” David blurted out.

 

“Tim tell you?”

 

“Yeah. Did you really get divorced three times, or is that some kind of inside joke?”

 

Gibbs chuckled lightly and took another sip.

 

The night air was cool and there was a slight breeze. Tim stood in the open doorway listening, Tony perused David’s movie collection, and they could all hear the sound of the jets from Ziva’s bath through the open bathroom window. David began plucking at the strings in chords, and softly sang without expecting any of them to hear it or be listening.

 

_“Well it's not far back to sanity, at least it's not for me_

_And if the wind is right you can sail away, and find serenity_

_Oh, the canvas can do miracles, just you wait and see._

_Baby, believe me._

_Sailing takes me away to where I’ve always heard it could be._

_Just a dream and the wind to carry me,_

_And soon I will be free.”_

Tim heard every word, and fell deeper in love as he heard David’s soft voice sing as he never heard it before. Gibbs had his eyes closed and head tilted back as he, too, took in the words. That night, Tim had to fight every fiber of his being telling him to slip into bed with David just to _be_ with him. He didn’t want to risk angering Gibbs, though, and Gibbs was definitely keeping tabs on the two of them. He looked around the house but couldn’t find any photos of the person he thought was Kevin. He wondered if they lived here together, but the thought only made Tim want to be closer to David. _‘It’ll all be over soon,’_ he thought to himself as he finally drifted off.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit: Lyrics by Christopher Cross, "Sailing" - Played acoustically and sung in the style of Boyce Avenue


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - In the same way that Tim refers to himself as McGee when he's working, David will be in character as Orion and will be referred to as such when appropriate in the remaining chapters. Enjoy!

NCIS

 

In the morning, Tim and David worked around each other making breakfast for the rest of the agents as they each showered and prepared themselves for the first day of training. They compiled a shopping list and sent Ziva and Tim for supplies. Gibbs and Tony joined David at the bank to escort the large amount of money he has withdrawing. The three of them arrived just as Ziva was throwing away the last of the bags from their run. They all dressed casually to keep up appearances in case they ended up being observed after all. David assisted in preparing their outfits such that they’d look more like typical racers on their off-time. After Tony and Gibbs cleaned up the kitchen, they departed in the sedan and Tim’s Porsche for the address David gave them for Bone’s garage and track. David spent the car trip with Tim getting himself back into his old character as Orion.

 

“By the way,” he said to Tim, “I should probably warn you, I was kinda _with_ this guy during my racing time. Not all the time, just sorta a not-serious rebound. He was the one who taught me how to race, and helped me with my car.”

 

“Wow, an ex? That won’t complicate things, will it?”

 

“No, he’s always wanted to fool around again but we both knew we weren’t compatible.”

 

“How so?”

 

“I was in _no_ shape for a relationship. I was out for revenge. Plus he was into a bit of kink. Tried to teach me how to be submissive, but he’d push too hard and I’d flip the roles on him. He didn’t like that. He taught me how to turn my anger into focus, though. It helped me out a lot on the track.”

 

“Well, um… thanks for telling me, I guess. Do you talk to him much?” Tim felt slight pangs of jealousy, but was at least glad to be warned.

 

“No, no. The last time I talked to him was a little bit after I left the scene. I was so used to the rush of racing, I wanted one more hit before I cut it out for good. He’s been holding my car for me since then, occasionally letting someone try their hand at it.”

 

“But you trust him?”

 

“Enough, but I think it’s best that we don’t tell him what we’re really up to. Other than the fact that it’s an open investigation, it could be cutting into his customer base.”

 

Arriving at the garage, Gibbs let Orion take the lead but kept close behind him. The lot outside the garage was divided into sections of muscle cars, supercars, tuner cars, and drag cars. Most had aftermarket body parts but were kept empty of decorations like smooth, blank canvases waiting for an artist to pick them out. Tony wanted to fondle every car he saw, but Ziva kept him on a short leash. McGee trembled at the thought of his car coming out looking like the ones he saw in the repair lot, where smashed bumpers and crushed rims clung their vehicles with ropes and duct tape.

 

As they approached two doors on the side, they were greeted with the sight of the red Mustang Orion was purchasing and a covered vehicle next to it, along with a well-built man in his early 40’s whose muscles rippled under his rough, dark skin.

 

 “Ha!” he laughed at seeing Orion and this motley crew, and called back into the garage, “Jake, he’s here! You owe me a hundred!”

 

Orion dropped his jaw in mocked insult, then said, “What? I offer 90 large and y’all didn’t think I’d show?”

 

“Naw, I knew you would. You always come back,” Bone offered his hand and they did a one-armed hug.

 

McGee saw Bone’s fingers gently brush over Orion’s hand a little longer than they had to, and he instantly felt a twinge of jealousy and possessiveness.

 

“You’ve never come with company though,” Bone continued, “are they family, or you starting your own crew?”

 

“Come on, man, you know I’m out of that scene. Family. Trying to reconnect and all, figure it’s been long enough I can reintegrate myself. Here are the keys to the Porsche. Be careful with her,” and he handed over McGee’s keys.

 

“Jake!” he called back, “Porsche upgrade I told you about. White-glove it,” and he tossed the keys to a passing mechanic. Turning back to Orion he said, “So, you ready to see the goods?”

 

Orion nodded, and they walked over to the Mustang. It was a deep red with a pair of white stripes running from the front to the back. Bone popped the hood and proceeded to list off the various specs that only Tony and Orion could keep up with. After Bone started the car and let the engine blast a few times, Tony was ready to faint with excitement and Orion was satisfied enough to hand over the money. McGee, Ziva, and Gibbs watched in boredom at the car facts but amusement at Tony’s reactions. They all then turned their attention to the covered vehicle next to the Mustang.

 

“I never get tired of seeing this,” he said, looking at Orion’s face as he pulled off the cover in one swoop.

 

Seeing Bone looking at Orion’s face instead of the car, McGee followed suit and saw Orion’s eyes ignite with a fiery intensity. It was a whirlwind of lust, hatred, guilt, vengeance, and power rolled up into one surge as the cover was removed.

 

Before them sat a 2006 Audi R8, ice-blue with white vinyl scratches torn across the sides, black carbon fiber accents, a low-cut spoiler stretched across the back, chrome rims with many spokes like turbine fins, and heavily tinted windows. It looked ferocious. Even Ziva was impressed, and she didn’t know anything about supercars. Tony reached out, reverently refraining from touching directly but getting close enough as if to feel its aura. He circled the car, taking in every detail, then finally finding his voice.

 

“No fucking way, this is impossible. This engine is a V10. Audis don’t have V10’s yet. This-- this can’t be here,” he said, exasperated.

 

“I got a prototype V10 direct from Lamborghini,” Orion answered. “Costed almost as much as the car, but worth every penny. Even new Gallardos don’t have this engine yet.”

 

“No one’s been able to ride it since you,” Bone said. “They’ve tried, but they just can’t control it. It’s like a bull trying to knock them off.” He held out the keys.

 

Orion took them, and after a deep breath opened the door and slid inside. McGee went to the other side to see inside and just have a close moment with David. He could tell that even under this guise he was wearing, this was causing a lot of turmoil, and he wanted to be there this time.

 

The inside of the car looked stripped down to bare essentials. A roll cage encompassed the cockpit, the dashboard had been replaced with a lightweight console, and the seats cushioned but light bucket seats with 5-point safety belts. Despite the lack of luxury, the console connected to large speakers mounted on the doors and around the interior. Behind the center console there sat a large NOS tank. Looking around, McGee finally saw a picture taped over an empty space on the console. The man in it looked to be in his mid-30’s, and wore a sleepy, content smile while holding a steaming mug. It could only be Kevin. Orion had him with him the entire time he was racing.

 

“Hey, are you ok?” McGee said quietly.

 

“Yeah, just never gets easier being back here.”

 

McGee squeezed his hand, and Orion squeezed back before releasing him and starting the car.

 

The engine roared to life, shaking dust off the floor below and lights above it. Orion breathed in, almost erotically, as he revved the engine up and letting it settle back down. His hand wandered down and gripped the gear shift tightly.

 

“Missed you too,” he whispered to the car.

 

Outside of the car, Bone had walked over to speak to Gibbs.

 

“You his father?”

 

“Not exactly,” Gibbs responded.

 

“How much do you know about him and his history with all this?” Bone’s voice had an element of concern.

 

“A fair bit, why?”

 

“I’m not gonna pretend I know what you all are up to,” he said also to Tony and Ziva, “and I know better than to ask. But I’ve known him for a fair bit, myself, taught him most of what he knows, and I know everything he’s lost. He wouldn’t be here for just some family bonding time. If you care about him at all, make sure that he walks away from this thing alive. If he’s pushed too far, he will break and there will be no getting him back.”

 

“Are you saying he’s unstable?” Ziva asked.

 

“No, as long as he has something to protect, and someone to protect him. If you’re family, you’re here because he needs you now, both for him to support and for you to support in return. Be there.”

 

Orion turned off the engine, and he and McGee stepped out of the car. The all regrouped, and Bone gave them instructions on getting to the track. Orion in the R8 with McGee, Tony eagerly followed in the Mustang, and Ziva and Gibbs trailed in the sedan. They parked together on the ramp leading from the lot onto the track, and Orion began giving them all basic instructions, including Gibbs since he had nothing better to do but listen.

 

Orion did a few laps in his car with them watching so he could determine step-by-step the best way to teach them. Gibbs opted to save time by not riding along, so Orion took the other three each through a series of laps in the Mustang so they could get a sense of being on the track, when to shift gears on the car, its center of gravity, and other best practices. Tony had gone first since he was going to be the one driving the Mustang, followed by Ziva, then finally McGee. Tony left to get them lunch just after Ziva’s rounds ended. Ziva and Gibbs stood together on the track fence watching McGee slowly improve his technique.

 

“Gibbs,” she started, “what did you think of what Bone said about David?”

 

“I think he was right about him, how he acts, his reasoning.”

 

“Do you think this assignment will be too much for him? He’s going to be facing an old rival.”

 

“No. Right now, his focus is protecting Tim.”

 

“How can you be sure?”

 

“I’ve been him,” he said.

 

Ziva was surprised, trying to picture Gibbs as a young man with blue hair and piercings.

 

“After I lost my girls,” he continued, “I was reckless. I had nothing to lose, and I nearly lost myself. Eventually, I found myself with quite a few things to lose, and it made me work that much harder and better.”

 

“What did you find?”

 

Gibbs looked at her for a moment, then gave her a light head-smack. She understood, and with proud smiles they turned back to watch McGee drive.

 


	14. Chapter 14

NCIS

 

The next two days flew by as the team trained hard in preparation for the weekend. McGee grew to love the feeling of his Porsche’s new-found power, and was finally able to beat Tony’s track time. Orion rarely lost patience during his attempts to teach them, but was frustrated trying to get them to _feel_ instead of _think_ during the races. Eventually, he had them go head-to-head on the track so they’d get used to the pressure of others around them.

 

Orion was exhausted by the end of each day, so the rest of them took turns cooking and cleaning. He and Tim rarely got a moment alone, despite Tim’s attempts to find a one. Orion kept his distance to maintain his mindset and to keep Tim focused. When not on the track, he had them memorize the tracks at Summit Point so they’d be prepared.

 

Taking a break from the track, Orion took them shopping to get them each set up with outfits each pertaining to their roles. Tony was fitted with a flat-brim cap, tank top, and cargo shorts. Tim brought his expensive Armani jacket, and got designer jeans and shoes. Ziva’s first objection to her outfit was, “Where do I put my gun?” She ended up with a black, sleeveless crop-top, cut-off jean shorts, and black boots. They had to try several pairs of boots until she found ones that she could easily slip her gun, knife, and handcuffs into.

 

Saturday came with a moderate amount of tension, and they packed into their growing fleet of now four cars. McGee’s Porsche, Tony’s Mustang, Orion’s R8, and Gibbs’ NCIS Charger drove in a caravan down to DC. Tony fought every impulse to floor the pedal on the highway, but Gibbs’s watchful stare in the rear-view mirror kept him in line.

 

They stopped at NCIS so McGee could install wired remote cameras to his and Orion’s jackets and Tony’s shorts so that Gibbs and Ziva could each observe when not in play. McGee and Tony each took earwigs and departed for the track, while the other three went to Abby’s lab where they could observe. As they watched Tony enter the lot on the screen, Ducky came down to join them.

 

“Ah, Jethro, I wondered where you had disappeared to all week,” he said as he strolled in.

 

“Up in Pennsylvania training DiNozzo and McGee for an assignment, Duck.”

 

Orion leaned over to Ziva and whispered, “Duck?”

 

Ziva hadn’t realized they had never met, and turned to introduce them. “Ducky, David O’Malley. David, Doctor ‘Ducky’ Mallard. He’s our medical examiner.”

 

“And you must be one of Miss Sciuto’s friends,” Ducky remarked, looking at Orion’s hair, piercings, and nails.

 

Orion was confused, then chuckled, “Oh, no, I’m a friend of Tim’s, I’m helping on this case. So you’re the one that patched up him after the dog attack?”

 

“Yes, that was me.”

 

“Thank you,” Orion said, and shook Ducky’s hand with both of his.

 

 _“Boss,”_ Tony chimed in over comms, _“just parked, where to next?”_

 

Gibbs looked over to Orion, nodding.

 

“Tony, hit registration first, go for a time trial. Remember, you have a ‘Class B’ muscle car. Look for everyone you saw when you were first there, and make sure they notice you. Since they know you already know about the wagers, go ahead and enter.”

 

 _“On it,”_ he responded.

 

“Tim, you hear me?”

 

 _“Copy,”_ McGee said over his earpiece.

 

“Go ahead and head in, but go for observation first. After a few races, go down and register. Tell them you don’t know your vehicle class, but that you upgraded the turbo. After your first time trial, register for the wager and trials for the rest of the afternoon.”

 

_“Roger that.”_

 

They continued to observe while Tony and McGee each carried out their orders. Abby paced back and forth in the lab.

 

“Should I be nervous right now?” Abby asked, “Because I’m very nervous right now.”

 

“They’re fine, Abby,” Orion said. “This is just getting them on their radar.”

 

“Is this how you got in?” she continued.

 

“Somewhat. It took me longer because it took forever to get the engine for my car. I trained for almost 3 months in an old Civic. The scouts at the track were impressed that I was able to modify and handle the R8 that extensively.”

 

“So why didn’t you just send them in with that?”

 

“Because it would be recognized and blow the mission.”

 

Tony began his time trial and ripped through the track, passing two other drivers on his way. At the end, his highest time took him to 3rd place on the leaderboard. During his next trial, he boosted up to 2nd place.

 

McGee then went down to registration. As the man at the table looked at his ID, a wave of shock took over his face.

 

“Wait, Thom E. Gemcity? You’re-- you’re that writer!” the man said excitedly.

 

McGee gave a small, relieved smile. “Yes, I’m a writer.”

 

“My wife loved your book. _‘Deep Six,’_ right? Hey, uhh… listen, could I, maybe…?” the man’s hands almost trembled as he passed McGee a piece of paper and a pen, at which McGee smiled and signed. “Thanks man, you’re my hero. I’ll be getting it all week now.” The man finished registering McGee and his car, casually waving away any of his ignorance about his car’s abilities and putting him in Class B. “What brings you out here? You looking for inspiration?”

 

“Yes, actually. I’m working on a character who’s a race car driver, and I’m just trying to get into his head,” McGee lied.

 

“Sounds like it’ll be fun, hope you get inspired!” the man said, and handed McGee his tag. “If you really want to make it more interesting, there’s a 50/50 that we run twice a day, first half and second half of the day.” He proceeded to fill him in on the basics of wager and the time trials. Since most average people with a penchant for racing fell into the Class B category, it usually meant larger winnings.

 

McGee said he’d think about it, then went out for his first trial. Orion whispered feedback as he saw the delayed footage of McGee’s trial, and by the final lap of the trial his time was so low it would’ve put him in first place. McGee felt electrified at his impressive lap in front of the whole crowd, and eagerly went to sign up.

 

“Don’t forget,” Orion said in an amused tone, “the winnings go home with me.”

 

 _“I don’t care, I just want to win!”_ McGee said quietly but excitedly.

 

“That’s my boy.”

 

Gibbs looked at the sly smile on Orion’s face and rolled his eyes with a smile of his own.

 

After a few more hours of racing and observing, the announcement came in that McGee had won the Class B 50/50, awarding him approximately $8,000. He followed the desk assistant back to a manager’s office, where he claimed his winnings. The manager was a taller man, dressed in business casual, slightly built but definitely a desk kind of guy. He looked at McGee, studying his appearance and going over the footage from his race.

 

“You did pretty well out there,” he said while opening the safe under his desk.

 

“Thanks, but it was probably just beginner’s luck.”

 

“Well hopefully we’ll see you out there. The more beginners that people see out here, the more willing they are to participate. A regularly attending celebrity, however, would really help attendance.”

 

Orion whispered in his earpiece, “Ask him if they do any kind of amateur races.”

 

McGee obeyed, saying, “I’m looking for inspiration for a book. Do you have any kind of races that I could possibly join? I want to really feel that pressure of a crowded track like the races on TV.”

 

The manager scrutinized his face, then said, “I’m sure if you hang around long enough you’ll meet some friends that you can get together for something like that, but of course as a company we don’t really organize that.” The manager handed McGee the money. “Enjoy your winnings.”

 

“He’s on their radar. Good work, McGee. Come home,” Orion said, let go of the breath he was holding. “Tony, stay at the track and keep observing, enter for the second half of the trials. We don’t want them to associate you two together.”

 

Tony and McGee each followed their instructions. McGee left the track feeling exhilarated, and Tony kept racing until he won the second 50/50 taking home another $9,000.


	15. Chapter 15

NCIS

 

After the racing track closed, the team regrouped at NCIS. Acting Director Vance requested an update over speakerphone.

 

 _“So you still haven’t laid eyes on our targets?”_ Vance said.

 

“No, but McGee is now on their radar. If he keeps impressing, they’ll reach out,” Gibbs replied.

 

_“How quickly do you think you can wrap this up?”_

“We should at least have a location and time for the group to meet next weekend,” Orion responded.

 

_“Get it done. In the meantime, Gibbs, I want your team working cold cases until your next race day.”_

Tony groaned, loving the thrill of the track and not wanting to have to go back to dull casework.

 

“Got it,” Gibbs said, and disconnected the call. Turning to the rest of the team, “Good work all of you. Meet here same time tomorrow.”

 

McGee turned to Orion and said, “Do you want to come stay at my place tonight?”

 

“I don’t think so, Tim. I need us both to stay focused on the work and I-- just-- Not like this,” he looked at his clothes and his hands, his face showing signs of tension. “I’ll stay in a hotel tonight and head home tomorrow until next weekend. Once this is over…”

 

“I know,” McGee said. “I’ll be here.” He squeezed Orion’s hand and went home.

 

Gibbs observed the exchange from his desk, and walked over to Orion after McGee left.

 

“Hang in there,” Gibbs said. “You’ll be fine.”

 

Orion didn’t look up at him, but shook his head.

 

“What is it?”

 

Orion took a moment, then finally said, “I just have a bad feeling.”

 

“You can stay at my house tonight,” Gibbs offered.

 

“No,” Orion said quickly, “thank you but I need to be alone right now.”

 

Gibbs eyed him suspiciously but still detected no deception. “Keep your phone on and don’t disappear on us again. Rule Number Three, _never be unreachable_ ,” he instructed.

 

Orion gave a weak smile. “How many rules do you have?”

 

“About 50. You’re already breaking Nine, Ten, and Twelve: _Never go anywhere without a knife, never get personally involved in a case, and never date a coworker._ ”

 

“Not entirely true,” Orion said with a smile. He reached around to the small his back under his coat and shirt, and pulled out a small throwing knife. Its blade was short but sharp, about 1 ½ inches long, before sharply curving into a thin neck, which connected to the wide side of a thick rectangular base. 

 

Gibbs returned a small smile, “Not exactly what I had in mind, but it’ll do.”

 

NCIS

 

Sunday morning, McGee entered the lot first, re-registered, and began his rounds. Tony followed suit. They passed each other a couple of times in the stands, but otherwise attempted to avoid each other. Tony conspicuously looked around, whereas McGee socialized a little bit and gave out a few more autographs. Abby, Gibbs, Ziva, and Orion were in the lab observing, looking through security cameras for any sign of suspicious activity.

 

 _“Guys, we may have a problem,”_ Tony chimed in over the comms. _“They’ve got me and McGoo paired in a time trial. We’ll be sharing the track.”_

 

“It’s probably random,” Orion replied. “They put one person on while the other is partway across the track. Keeps things moving without stacking them too close.”

 

“Could we use this as an opportunity for Tim to show off?” Ziva asked. “It would get some attention.”

 

“Abby bring up the map,” Orion said. He traced his fingers across the route, looking until he found something. “Gibbs?”

 

“What have you got?” Gibbs said, looking at the map over Orion’s shoulder.

 

“I think I have something that’s subtle enough to get attention without making them look paired together. It’ll help our chances for next weekend.”

 

“Run it.”

 

“Ok Tony, Turn Two on your second lap, right 180-degree medium turn, gun the engine halfway through and spin out on the exit. Then speed up moderately heading to Turn Three and keep left. Tim, his spinout will buy you time to catch up. Go through Turn Two hard and fast, then get right and let your tail out a little just like I showed you while you pass Tony on the right through Turn Three. It’s a 50-degree left.”

 

 _“Copy that,”_ both Tony and McGee replied.

 

Tony’s car roared out of the gate and onto the track while McGee’s engine purred in queue.

 

Gibbs spoke up, “Abby, can you get me any cameras on the managers or the owner?”

 

“I think so,” she said as she clicked away at her keyboard. On one of the monitors she brought up a box where the 50/50 manager and the track owner were talking. “It’s video only, but I got ‘em.”

 

Abby was put to the test quickly cycling through cameras on the main screen so that they could see both Tony and McGee at all times during their track time. They watched as McGee sped off onto the track while Tony was well ahead. McGee was gaining on Tony, which worked in their favor. Tony finished his first lap, and entered the first turn while McGee passed the last turn.

 

“Keep sharp, boys,” Orion reminded them.

 

 _“Here we go,”_ Tony said.

 

Tony eased off the gas going into the second turn. Halfway through, he downshifted and floored the gas pedal, causing his wheels to spin and his tail to drift. Instead of pulling out of the drift, he let the car spin around such that he wouldn’t careen into the track walls and came to a stop with a few feet to spare. He turned around and slowly increased his speed while taking to the left of the track going into the next turn.

 

McGee kept wide going into the turn. He then hugged the inside of the turn as he whipped around and held the gas all the way through. As he exited, he went wide to the left. He saw the skid marks on the road and saw Tony’s car just up ahead.

 

“Just like I showed you,” Orion repeated.

 

McGee went full speed ahead approaching Tony, then eased up for a moment as he ducked right, and then gunned the engine heading into the turn. His tail drifted, and he found a sweet spot in both the gas pedal and the steering wheel as the car skidded around the Mustang without losing control. Pulling smoothly out of the drift, he sped off ahead of Tony.

 

 _“YEAH!”_ McGee shouted through the comms.

 

“Yes!” Orion pumped his fist in the air.

 

Gibbs kept his eyes on the screen where the manager and owner nodded their heads as they watched the same maneuver, and then walked out from the observation room.

 

“Looks like we got their attention,” Gibbs said.

 

As they pulled off the track, McGee’s time topped the Class B board just in time for them to call the morning half of the 50/50. McGee won $12,000, and headed to the office to claim it.

 

Abby was cycling through the cameras trying to find McGee’s parked car, but the cameras kept skipping from 22 to 24. “Gibbs,” she said with a tone of warning, “I’ve lost feed from one of the cameras. I’m pretty sure it’s the parking lot camera.”

 

“McGee, what’s your status?” Gibbs asked.

 

_“Just collected the winnings, why?”_

“We’ve lost visual on your car. Watch your back.”

 

 _“I have eyes on it,”_ Tony chimed in. _“I don’t see anyone around it.”_

“Keep your distance,” Gibbs ordered.

 

McGee approached his car, and the team looked at the screen that showed his remote camera.

 

_“Boss, it looks like there’s something on the windshield.”_

“This isn’t right,” Orion said with a frown. “It’s too soon for them to give him an invitation, even with what they did on the track.”

“Get closer, let’s see it,” Gibbs continued.

 

McGee got closer and saw it was an envelope tucked under the windshield wiper. He quickly examined it, and saw only ‘Thom E. Gemcity’ written on the front. He opened it such that the camera hidden on his jacket could see the contents. _“Boss…”_ he said in a horrified tone as he pulled out two pictures: one of their convoy of cars together on the highway coming from Pennsylvania, and another of them parked together at NCIS. A note accompanied them:

 

_Orion,_

_11 PM, one-on-one. I will know if you don’t come alone._

_\- K_

 


	16. Chapter 16

NCIS

 

“ABORT! DiNozzo, pick him up! DO NOT TOUCH THAT CAR! Get back here NOW!” Gibbs shouted into the microphone.

 

Tony rushed over in the Mustang to where McGee waited for him, then Tony gunned the engine, spewing gravel behind them as they sped off. McGee looked back at his Porsche almost expecting it to explode.

 

Orion stood frozen solid. They knew. They followed him. They knew where he lived, which meant they knew where he worked, they knew he was working with McGee AND DiNozzo. How long have they been following him? Did they know about his relationship? Was McGee in danger now?

 

Gibbs got right into Orion’s face, and shouted, “Did you know?”

 

Orion was still frozen and couldn’t think.

 

Gibbs latched onto his throat and pinned the younger man to the wall.

 

“Gibbs!” Ziva shouted.

 

 _“DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?”_ Gibbs repeated, louder.

 

“I… didn’t…,” Orion wheezed.

 

 _“Boss, what’s happening?”_ McGee’s panicked voice came through the comms. He heard the shouting, then a loud crash he couldn’t identify, and then nothing.

 

Gibbs reached his other hand into Orion’s jacket pocket and pulled out the burner phone. He then released Orion, who sunk to the ground.

 

“Ziva,” he huffed, “put him in interrogation. And check him for weapons. Now.” Then he stormed out of the lab.

 

Ziva stood stunned for a moment, then reached out to help Orion get up. Once he was up, she maintained a soft grip on him.

 

“Ziva, I didn’t do this,” he pleaded.

 

She didn’t look at him, “Let’s just go. Don’t make this difficult.” She marched him up the stairs.

 

Abby stood alone in shock.

 

 _“Abby!”_ Tony’s voice came through the comms. _“What’s going on?”_

 

“Gibbs just had Ziva take Orion to the interrogation room. You guys really gotta get back here.”

 

 _“Wait, he thinks David had something to do with this?”_ McGee asked.

 

Abby didn’t know how to respond.

 

NCIS

 

McGee looked through the one-way glass at David. He had been in the interrogation room for four hours. He kept wanting to believe that David was still in there and that this Orion character was _just_ a cover, not the other way around. He wanted nothing more than to go into the room and hear David say it’s all untrue, and it’s all a mistake. He trusted him, he _loved him._ He would believe him, which is why Gibbs demanded he stay out of there. As soon as McGee came back, Gibbs had him run the burner phone David had purchased for getting into cover. The door to the observation room opened and Ziva, Tony, and Abby came through.

 

“What’s going on? Where’s Gibbs?”

 

“On his way,” Tony said, trying to give a comforting look but ending up looking worried.

 

Abby wrapped McGee in a hug, but then turned as the door opened again and Vance stepped through. He nodded to each of them, not dismissing them, as he stepped up to the glass and looked through.

 

“What’s he doing?” he said.

 

Orion looked like he was trying to paint or write on the table with his finger, and was talking quietly to himself.

 

“Talking to himself. That’s not crazy or anything,” Tony droned.

 

“He’s mapping out the events from when he first came here,” McGee said. “He’s trying to figure out when he started being followed.”

 

Vance looked curiously at McGee. “And you know that, how?”

 

“I’ve been listening to the audio feed. He didn’t blow the mission.”

 

“We’ll see what Gibbs thinks about that,” Vance replied, definitely not convinced.

 

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Gibbs came in carrying a folder. Orion ceased his charting of events, and followed Gibbs’ with his eyes.

 

“I found it interesting,” Gibbs started, “that no sooner were you not being watched by NCIS that you bought a secret burner phone and placed a few calls while no one was listening. Want to tell me about that?”

 

“I called a salon to get my hair done, and I called a piercing shop to make sure they could take a walk-in.”

 

“And?” Gibbs pressed. “There was more than that. The night you stayed at the hotel?”

 

“There couldn’t have been. Those were the only calls I made when I wasn’t with you. The only other person I called with that phone was Bone, and you were right there for that.”

 

“I have a log here that says different. You remember what I said I’d do if you lied to me, Orion?”

 

“I’m not lying. While you’ve been wasting time inventing phone calls, I’ve been stuck here trying to figure out what happened.”

 

“Oh really? Well I’ve indulged your _‘theories’_ and _‘strategies’_ so far, I guess a little more won’t hurt, please go on,” Gibbs taunted.

 

Orion narrowed his eyes at the insult, but continued. “I’ve narrowed it to only two possibilities. One is that Bone sold me out. If he saw I was onto something that would’ve hurt his business enough, I can’t rule out that he’d have to take matters into his own hands. Then they followed us down to DC and recognized the cars at the track.”

 

“And the second?”

 

Orion’s face grew dark. He folded his hands into fists and set his forehead on them. “That I failed, and Tim is in danger and I can’t stop them,” He said quietly.

 

McGee’s fists tightened and shook. _‘He can’t be lying. He can’t be lying.’_

 

“Go on,” Gibbs nudged, looking for any sign of lying.

 

“If they’ve been watching me since I left Philly, then they’ll know about our relationship and try to use him as leverage to get whatever they want out of me.”

 

“And they haven’t already? According to this log, there were quite a few incoming and outgoing calls while you’ve been hanging around us.”

 

Gibbs pulled out a phone log and slid it over to Orion. McGee’s breathing quickened, and Abby wrapped one of her hands around his.

 

“This is impossible,” Orion said, scanning the page. “I couldn’t have done any of this. I never called anyone else!”

 

Gibbs studied him thoroughly, then calmly said, “I know. Those are my phone calls. People never leave me alone.”

 

McGee finally breathed out. Gibbs was testing him.

 

“What the _hell_?” Orion said in utter confusion.

 

“I had to make sure you believed your next theory as much as you believed you never made any other phone calls,” Gibbs explained. “We already pulled your records to confirm.”

 

“You were just testing me?”

 

“Rule Number Eight: _Never take anything for granted._ I can’t just assume your loyalty to me or to McGee when the variables seem to keep changing around you.”

 

“I don’t know what to do, Gibbs. I can’t figure it out and they could hurt him.”

 

“They won’t. They know they’re dealing with NCIS now, and they won’t want to risk the full weight of us on them.”

 

“So then what does K want from me? He knows you’ll be watching.”

 

“Which means he can’t kill you without us seeing.”

 

“But they killed your guy!”

 

“Get him to admit that, and we’ll sweep in.”

 

Orion put his head on his arms. Behind the glass, McGee was shaking his head.

 

“No. You can’t send him in alone,” he said to Vance.

 

“Excuse me, Agent McGee, did you just tell me what I can and cannot do?”

 

"He's a civilian-"

 

"-Who has jeopardized a federal investigation," Vance interrupted. "Right now, we don't know if this group is just a well-organized gang of punks with cars and a personal vendetta for a civilian, or if we have a domestic terrorist cell right here in DC that just threatened an agency. Given the circumstances, the only way to know for sure is to send him in. And no, I'm not sending him alone. But if you have a problem with his involvement because of your personal relationship, I suggest you remove yourself from this investigation immediately."

 

 _'No way in hell am I taking my eyes off him.'_ "No, sir. No problem."

 

"Good," Vance said before walking out of the room.

 


	17. Chapter 17

NCIS

 

Gibbs looked through the scope of his rifle to view the starting line. He saw Special K leaning against his red Ford GT at the starting line of the large winding track. The many tracks at the park intersected in several places but were blocked off with various cones and mobile barriers. There were several exits to each track that had to be observed and covered in case there was a switch. The lights at the park were on, but all was quiet as Special K and Orion seemed to be the only ones there. Several garages and lots were to the east of the track for tuning and training, but were vacated for the night. Gibbs observed from a thick forest beyond the south end of the course as Orion pulled up and parked his car at the starting line next to his opponent.

 

“This is Alpha, all teams report,” Gibbs said into his radio.

 

 _“Bravo, north entrances covered,”_ DiNozzo replied

 

 _“Charlie, training entrance covered, car’s tracker and camera are live,”_ McGee said.

 

 _“Delta, eyes on targets from west, clear for shot,”_ Ziva reported.

 

 _“Echo, roads to the east are covered. If they slip off-track, we’ll know.”_ Echo Team was made of a few agents Gibbs had selected to supplement the mission.

 

“Stay sharp,” he commanded.

 

Orion turned off the engine and exited his car. He looked upon the smug grin of his former rival.

 

 _“Well, well, well, Orion Marks in the flesh,”_ Special K’s sneer came through the comms.

 

 _“Not bad, K. But then again I wondered if you’d really fall for the same tricks twice,”_ Orion spoke.

 

 _“First things first,”_ K pulled out a small box with a few antennas, flicked a small switch, and set it on top of his car.

 

At that moment, the screens McGee was observing went to static, and Orion’s audio feed from his jacket and the video feed from his car cut out. _“Boss, he cut off the signal. He’s using some kind of jammer, and I can’t get any feed from the track cams.”_

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he ordered, “Get ready to run a plate.”

 

_“Ready.”_

 

Gibbs read him the plate from the front of K’s car.

 

 _“Car is registered to a James Kellan, 37, no criminal record,”_ McGee read back. _“Registration history puts him in Philadelphia up until 2007.”_

“The old ring,” Gibbs said.

                           

The conversation between Orion and K ended, and they entered their cars. They started their engines, and each revved a few times while the track’s signal switched on to red. Orion’s headlights flipped on along with bright blue lights flooding the road just around his car.

 

 _“Blue signal, all teams standby,”_ Gibbs’ voice came through each agent’s radio.

 

The green light barely finished lighting to full brightness when both cars roared to life and shot down the track. Gibbs watched through his scope as the cars battled for various positions through the turns on the track. The R8 stayed in front until the final stretch of the first lap, then the GT rocketed forward with a nitrous boost. The R8 stayed close behind. In the second lap, the GT went just wide enough around a tight turn that the R8 was just able to slip through and ahead. With no room to spare, the R8’s exhaust ignited with a nitrous boost and it sped ahead. The night air echoed with the sound of the engines.

 

As they reached the final stretch of the third lap, both cars lurched forward as they each hit their boost. The R8 stayed well ahead of the GT and crossed the finish line with a few car lengths to spare. After reducing speed, they both changed course to a track exit. Gibbs followed them with his scope as they drove off of the track into the parking lot until they went inside a large garage, obscuring his view.

 

“Ziva, I’ve lost visual, they went into the garage.”

 

 _“Saw them go in but I can’t see anything from this angle,”_ she responded.

 

“Garage faces east. DiNozzo, McGee, move in. Ziva, keep eyes on. Echo Team, cover the exits.”

 

_“Copy.”_

Tony and McGee started their cars and made their way from the separate entrances to the garage areas. It took a couple of minutes, but Tony reached the building first. He got out of his car and sprinted to the entrance. Before he could see into it, an explosion from inside rocked the area. Debris shot out onto the lot, DiNozzo was knocked off balance, and the area was illuminated with a bright orange glow from the open garage door.

 

 _“DiNozzo, what’s going on? Status report!”_ Gibbs shouted over the comms.

 

“I’m ok,” he yelled while stumbling to his feet. He finally reached the door and saw the source of the explosion. His heart and jaw dropped. The R8 was flipped upside down, torn apart, and erupting flames from every possible orifice. His eyes found a body littered with debris about 20 feet away, and he ran to it. “Civilian down!”

 

 _“NO NO NO DAVID!”_ McGee’s voice rang across the radio.

 

Tony turned over the body, and saw that it was not Orion, but rather Special K. His neck had been broken.

 

“It’s not him, it’s K,” he called over the radio.

 

McGee’s sedan screeched to a halt just outside the garage. At the sight of the burning car, he ran straight for the blaze.

 

“DAVID!” he shouted again, his voice broken.

 

Tony intercepted him with a near tackle before he got himself killed, yelling “STOP! STOP! There’s nothing you can do.” McGee broke down sobbing in his arms. Tony looked around the space and noticed K’s car was missing. He then looked back at the burning car, and in an opening in the flames he saw that it was empty. “It’s ok, he’s not in it, McGee. He’s not in it.”  


_“What the hell is going on?!” Gibbs shouted over the radio._

“Orion’s not here. K is dead, and it looks like Orion took his car.”

 

 _“How?”_ came Ziva’s voice. _“No one has left the area.”_

_“Look for a back exit.”_ Gibbs ordered.

 

Tony and McGee ran to the back, and saw a large doorway that led down to an underground tunnel just big enough for a car to fit through.

 

“There’s a tunnel in the back. I think it's a service tunnel that runs under the tracks,” Tony reported.

 

_“DiNozzo, McGee, after him! McGee, track his cell while you move. Ziva, put a BOLO out on K’s car but tell LEOs not to engage, just report. Then check the body. Move it!”_

 

Tony peeled off down the tunnel while McGee rapidly punched in Orion’s burner phone and sent a ping. It showed as still in the garage. He then tried his personal phone, and met better results. _‘He’s alive, he’s alive and there’s a good explanation for all this,’_ he thought rapidly to himself.

 

“Alright Tony, they’re moving and they’re moving fast. The tunnel leads to some kind of exit, it didn't show on the satellite photos. Take a right at the end, head to 340 going east and stay on it.”

 

“Ok.”

 

Ziva finally arrived and went over to examine the body. She scanned the debris, and a few feet away she saw a gun and a laptop. She ran over to her car to grab gloves, then she went back to examine the gun as Gibbs pulled up.

 

“Gibbs, I’ve got a gun and a laptop here. Gun is a .45, could be our murder weapon.”

 

“Check the computer,” he said.

She opened the computer and powered it up. The desktop picture was of the late Warren and Jessica Bronston. “Definitely our victims’,” she said. On the desktop, he saw a folder called “Legion Evidence.” She opened it, and saw a myriad of folders titled with names, ranks, cars, transactions, and locations. She clicked on the folder titled ‘BOSS,’ and photos of Orion lit up the screen along with his arrest report and pictures of him as David running with McGee and Jethro. She cursed in Hebrew in disbelief.

 

“What is it?”

“Gibbs… these files… this can’t be right.”

 

“What?” Gibbs demanded.

 

 _“Ziva, what is it?”_ McGee called over the radio.

“Bronston’s research into Legion shows that Orion is its leader.”

 

Orion felt his phone vibrate, and with a couple of quick taps of his thumb in his pocket he set it to silent.

 

NCIS

 

 _“You’re sure he’s at his house?”_ Gibbs demanded over the phone.

 

“I’m sure, Boss,” McGee said.

 

Tony and McGee had been following David’s signal up the highway for almost three hours, but he was in the GT and could drive much faster. According to his signal, he had just arrived at his house in West Grove. It was just after 0230, but the whole team was wide awake. Tony used his phone through the car’s speakers to call Abby’s lab.

 

“Why the hell would he go to his house?” Tony said over the dull roar of the sedan’s engine. “It’s like the _last_ place you should go if you’re trying to disappear.”

 

Gibbs sounded angry. _“Unless he thinks he can get away, DiNozzo. He’s already slipped away from us twice. When you catch him, arrest him with no hesitation.”_  
  


“Abby, what about the computer? David’s files?” McGee asked.

 

_“I’ve only had a few minutes with it, but right off the bat I can tell you that this whole thing is wrong. This picture of you and David jogging was taken just last week, the day AFTER Bronston was killed.”_

“Which means someone else used the--” McGee was interrupted by his cell ringing. ‘David Cell’ came up as the ID. “Boss, David’s calling me.”

 

_“Take it and put it on speaker.”_

McGee answered and hit the speaker button. “David?”

 

 _“Tim…”_ David’s voice was weak and his breath was shallow.

 

“David, what the hell is going on? What are you doing?”

 

 _“Tim… Don’t--”_ he grunted _“follow me. Find Legion. I… made… a deal to keep you safe. But… he--- AAUGHH!”_ David yelled in what sounded like excruciating pain.

“DAVID! What’s wrong?! Are you hurt?!”

 

_“They’re after… you and the team.”_

 

“He’s right,” Tony said while looking in the rear-view mirror.

 

The car behind them was getting closer, and shut its lights off to avoid being seen easily. The lights on the highway weren’t very close together but Tony had already seen the car and kept his eyes on it. He was already pushing the pedal as far down as it would go.

 

 _“They… think I broke the deal,”_ David’s voice was becoming more of a whisper.

 

 _“Gibbs!”_ Abby’s voice rang out on the speakers. _“They have files on ALL of us! You, me, Tony, Ziva, Tim, everyone!”_

“They’re on us,” Tony warned, seeing the car less than 5 lengths behind. “McGee get ready to fire, Gibbs get LEOs for backup on our coordinates!”

 

“David?” McGee asked.

 

David did not answer. McGee’s heart was racing.

 

“David!” he shouted again.

 

“McGee! Get ready!” Tony shouted over him, drawing his weapon and handing it to McGee.

 

McGee dropped his phone and looked around for the other car.

 

The other vehicle’s window opened, and their car rattled as automatic fire shattered their windows and punched through the doors.

 

David heard the sound of gunfire and screeching tires through the phone before blacking out.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

NCIS

 

_Retrace the steps we took on that long summer night._

_I’m right there by your side._

_Retrace the steps we took when we met worlds away,_

_Counting backwards while the stars are falling._

 

David heard music. More specifically, music he recognized. This song was off of Anberlin’s new album. He also heard the soft beeping of a heart monitor. He slowly became aware of the bed he was laying in, a cold feeling around his left wrist, and an ache in his abdomen. He slowly pried his eyes open.

 

The evening sun shone through a tree outside the window. The clock told him it was 5 PM, but not what day it was. He saw he was handcuffed to the bed by his left hand.  The room was empty, but he saw a small CD player on a nearby table running the CD Tim had bought for him after their first date. _‘TIM!’_ His heart rate jumped as he started to panic, his last memories flooding in. Then the door slid open.

 

“David, you’re up!” Tim said, his face lighting up.

 

“Oh my god, Tim!” David tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot through his torso and he hissed.

 

“Shh, shh...” Tim rushed from the door to his side, gently lowered him back down and embraced him as tenderly as he could.

 

David sobbed as he reached his right arm around Tim. “I thought you were dead…” he choked out.

 

“I’m here, I’m ok, just relax. You were shot point-blank, it went right under your vest. The doctors had to remove your left kidney, but you’re going to be fine.” Tim sat back in a chair next to the bed and laced their fingers together.

 

“What about everyone else? Legion--”

 

“We got them, all of them. Everyone’s safe, it’s over. Just relax or the nurse will kick me out.”

 

David slowly regained himself and took a few deep breaths. “How long have I been in here?”

 

“Police came to your house around 2:45 this morning after reports of gunfire. They found you, shot,” he said with a gulp, “and Lester Haltze holding the gun, along with a knife in his neck.”

 

David weakly smiled. “Rule number… something. _Never go anywhere without a knife._ ”

 

“Nine,” Tim corrected with a smile. “Anyway, you came out of surgery around 8, and you’ve been sleeping ever since. Of course, you had to wake up at the exact time I had to go to the bathroom.”

 

David chuckled lightly, then looked at his cuffed wrist. “Wait, if you got Legion, what’s this about?”

 

“The police didn’t check to see that you owned the house, not Haltze. They didn’t think an old man would actually be the intruder, so they thought you broke in and killed him. Once they saw you were wearing an NCIS vest, they figured something else was up and they called us. Gibbs said to keep the cuffs on you so you couldn’t disappear again before he got the chance to talk to you himself.” Tim still held his smile.

 

David’s face suddenly went pale.

 

“What is it?” Tim asked.

 

“I… I guess it just hit me. I just-- I just-- killed someone.” His eyes told Tim he was starting to panic and his breath was starting to hitch in his throat.

 

“You knew he was going to kill you, and you did the right thing.”

 

“But--”

 

“No. You will not blame yourself, there is no ‘what if’ here, ok?”

 

David’s eyes welled, and Tim reached over and held him. He’d seen other people react to their first kill and knew how they thought.

 

“David, you are a good person. You wouldn’t be feeling like this right now if you weren’t. It’s ok, it’s all ok.”

 

David breathed shakily for a couple of minutes, then steadied.

 

“I can take the cuff off if it’s bothering you, just Gibbs’ sense of humor,” Tim offered.

 

“No,” David sniffed. “I don’t want you getting in trouble with Gibbs. Is he here?”

 

“No, he’s coming tonight though with Ziva and Abby. They all want to see how you’re doing, but they’ve been busy rounding up the rest of Legion.”

 

“What about Tony? Is he ok?”

 

“Yeah, he’s just out getting dinner. Thanks to you and your teaching us to negotiate a track, Tony managed to keep us mostly out of the shooter’s line of sight after his first round of fire. We shot out his tires and he spun out into a guardrail. We passed some state troopers during the chase and they got him after he crashed.”

 

David sighed with relief. “I’m so sorry, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

 

“What do you mean? I heard you say on the phone you made some kind of deal.”

 

“With Special K. It’s why he wanted to race, it was sort of a deal/wager.”

 

_FLASHBACK_

_“First things first,” Special K pulled out a small box with a few antennas, flicked a small switch, and set it on top of his car. “Much better,” he said._

_“So, what did you want to talk about?” Orion asked._

_“Life and death. Both can be very liberating subjects to discuss. We’re here because of it, we take part in both eventually. You and I both have accepted death before, and it has allowed us to do nearly impossible things.”_

_“Much as I’d like to listen to you masturbate with your voice, it’s not why I’m here. Get on with it.”_

_“You and I will leave here in the same condition, dead or alive. No doubt you have snipers on me right now, just like I have them on you. If I am shot, you will be too. So while you may not be able to speak to NCIS at the moment, I would refrain from any gestures that would cause one of them to fire. Your cooperation determines how many people will die, so choose wisely.”_

_“Sounds interesting, I’ll play along. Why here, like this?”_

_“We’re here to race, obviously. Just three simple laps.”_

_“For what, old times sake?”_

_“No. The fact that you are here and not an army of NCIS agents means you lack evidence to tie us definitively to your investigation into Brawn’s death. Nonetheless, I can’t keep having them snooping around the track. Once I found out you were working with them, our history made me a liability and an asset at the same time. I’m sure you faced similar conditions.”_

_“Brawn? Really?”_

_“He wasn’t very smart, his last name fit.”_

_Orion shrugged and said, “Ok, I’ll give you that.”_

_“Here’s what is going to happen. We will race. If you lose, Legion disappears, leaving every shred of possible evidence on our crimes pointing squarely at you. You take the fall for Brawn’s murder and everything we have done. If you win, I will turn myself in as Brawn’s killer. NCIS will no longer have jurisdiction over the track or airport if their case is closed, and Legion continues on.”_

_“And why don’t we just arrest you all now?”_

_“Because if you don’t race, or if you don’t honor the agreement after winning or losing, we will kill every person you know - your old family, everyone at your bakery, even your NCIS friends, but leaving you alive with all the blame. You may live for sentencing, and you may get me in the process but you won’t get the rest Legion. NCIS will have nothing but a dead end to follow, even if they do bring their full weight after us. If you win, they will be left alone since Legion will be left alone. You, on the other hand, will still be tied to my fate. Since mine will be sealed, so will yours.”_

_“I could never stand this about you. Why go through all the song and dance? Just pick a damn option that works best for everybody and there you go!”_

_“Well, that’s partially by my design. I haven’t raced anyone like you since you left, and I wanted the chance to do it again before our lives each end. And I wanted to ensure that we each gave our best. Nothing motivates someone like death, as you well know. If I win, it’s over quickly for me and Legion continues at its best. If I lose, I suffer and so does Legion, but we still continue.”_

_Orion huffed. “So if I win, I die. If I lose, I’ll live but have life in prison, and if I don’t race, I may live but everyone I know dies.”_

_“I’m glad you understand. As I said, your cooperation determines exactly how many people die.”_

_“You certainly sound pretty confident and prophetic about killing a lot of people. Why should I believe that you won’t kill them anyway?”_

_“Avoiding government agencies is best for business, so killing agents is a last resort. If you win, your death prevents you personally from coming after us and spares the lives of your friends.”_

_“And I’m supposed to believe that Legion will sacrifice its leader?”_

_“At this point, your team is already running the plates on my car, and I will be compromised even if I win. My death - like yours - will be quick, honorable, and untraceable back to Legion, but it’s better than life in prison. As I said, our fates our linked.”_

_“And you’re ready to accept a murder charge if I win? Just like that?” Orion said._

_“Small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. I’m sure you’re willing to do the same for Agent McGee’s safety, otherwise we wouldn’t still be discussing it.”_

_“Then, as a potentially dying man, I have one question and would like an honest answer before we begin.”_

_“Fair enough.”_

_“How long have you been onto me? Or rather, when did you start following me?”_

_“As I said before, killing agents is a last resort. We had no idea Brawn was a Naval Officer until NCIS showed up at the crime scene. We kept tabs on the investigation, and I must say I was quite surprised to see you just go right into NCIS until I saw you come out with one of the agents. All things aside, you had good taste.”_

_“I’m sure he’ll value your approval,” Orion said sarcastically._

_“Then when you remodeled yourself to be exactly as I remembered you, it could’ve only meant that they were onto us and using you to find us. You were the perfect answer to our problem.”_

_Orion nodded and then opened the door to his car. “Shall we get started, then?”_

_“Before we do, I now have a question for you. As I’ve said, you and I have been ready for death before. Now that you’re faced with it again, knowing that one way or another your life as you know it will end tonight, how do you feel?”_

_Orion thought about it for a minute, then simply said, “Like I’m ready to win.”_

_FLASHBACK_

 

“Wow,” Tim said.

 

“I know, right? He spoke like fucking Socrates the entire time. I nearly signaled Gibbs to shoot him like twelve times just to get him to shut up.”

 

Tim snorted, then laughed for what felt like the first time in years.

 

“No,” he said, “you raced to see which one of you would die. You would’ve rather died than let them blame you for their crimes?”

 

“Well, I’ll admit, I didn’t want to think of the way you’d look at me. But I also knew you and Gibbs would see through whatever I could say, and that would break the deal and get us all killed.”

 

“And then Haltze ended up breaking the deal instead.”

 

“For a while I thought he was just taking me back to kill me as planned, but when he had hit me with a tranquilizer, I knew something was wrong. He hit me right in the neck, too. That hurt. But I thought he wouldn’t kill me in a way that was so easily linked to Legion. I was in and out the whole time he drove, and even felt when you were calling me. But when we got back…” David shuddered, which hurt his wound.

 

“It’s ok,” Tim reached over and embraced him again. “It’s over. I can’t believe you were ready to be killed to protect me. To protect the team. God, I can’t believe I put you in that position. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Tim, I put myself here, not you,” David said looking right into Tim’s eyes. “I got away too cleanly last time. There was no way I was going back to being Orion without losing something getting back. I’d gladly lose more of myself than lose you. Besides, you do the same thing for people you don’t even know. That’s pretty damn amazing.”

 

“But that’s job, my decision.”

 

“And this was my life, and my decision. I’m kinda glad now, honestly. I carried Orion around with me for so long, and now I think I can leave him behind. I did something right with that part of my life, and now I feel like it’s finally over.”

 

“You are amazing. You’re brave, you’re strong, and I’m so glad you’re mine. I love you.”

 

“I love you too, baby.”

 

Tim wrapped both of his hands around David’s right hand, and they nuzzled their heads together.

 

“Just please don’t scare me like that again,” Tim whispered.

 

“Promise,” David smiled back.

 

The door opened and Tony came in with a bag of food.

 

“Come on, can you guys _ever_ keep your hands to yourselves?” he said.

 

“Hey Tony,” David said, groggily.

 

“Hey David, welcome back. How do you feel?”

 

“I’m not sure yet. Tired, I guess. Everything’s just been a whirlwind.”

 

“Did you tell him yet, McGee?"

 

"Tell me what?" David asked with a confused look.

 

Tim tried to speak delicately, not knowing how David would react to the news. "Your car, the R8, was destroyed after you left the track."

 

David shrugged it off and simply said, “Good.”

 

Tim and Tony looked back at him entirely surprised.

 

“ _‘Good?_ ’" Tony stammered.

 

David looked back at him, still smiling.

 

“$200,000 worth of your own sports rcar blown up and you say ‘ _good?!’_ ” Tony’s mind was imploding. Even Tim was still processing it.

 

“Good,” David repeated. “Saves me the trouble. It was part of Orion and I want nothing to do with it.”

 

“Well I just spoke to Gibbs, he’s on his way. You can plead your insanity to him. I’m gonna try to find a shower. McGee, I brought you a sub. You need anything else?” Tony asked.

 

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. Got all I need,” he said, looking back at David with a smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit: Lyrics by Anberlin, "Retrace"


	19. Chapter 19

NCIS

 

Gibbs had arrived with Ziva, Abby, and Ducky a few hours later. Ducky tagged along after learning through the grapevine what had happened and wanted to be with the rest of the team. David was asleep when they first came, but Tim stayed by his side since he had first woken up. David felt the handcuffs being taken off as he came to.

 

“Mmm… have I been bailed out?” he said sleepily.

 

“Everyone’s here now,” Tim said softly. He slowly brought the back of the bed up but not so far as to irritate David’s injury.

 

“Hey David!” Abby said, restraining herself from hugging just this once.

 

“Hey Abby, Ziva, Gibbs. Good to see you again, Ducky.”

 

“You as well, David,” Ducky replied.

 

“Gibbs, Tim said you got Legion. How?” David asked.

 

“Bronston’s laptop. Ziva found it with Kellan,” Gibbs answered.

 

“Who?” David asked.

 

“Special K,” Tim said. “His real name was James Kellan.”

 

“Oh, and that’s what was stolen from the house, right?”

 

“Right. It had all the evidence Bronston was compiling against Legion, plus stuff on us. Why were they tailing NCIS?” Gibbs asked.

 

David recanted the events starting from his conversation with Kellan up through when he blacked out after being shot by Haltze.

 

“Wait, they had a sniper on us when we were at the track?” Tony asked.

 

“On me, just to make sure I didn’t try to kill K. They wouldn’t have shot at you because they didn’t want your deaths linked to Legion,” David replied.

 

“So they were already prepared to frame you in case you broke the deal,” Ziva started.

 

Tony added, “And when Haltze got greedy, he waited at the garage for the race to be over, killed Kellan to make Legion think you broke the deal, and then planted the laptop figuring NCIS would be too busy chasing the rest Legion to be looking for him.”

 

“But it wasn’t convincing enough,” Abby chimed in. “Bronston originally had you listed as ‘Followed’ because he wanted to make sure you were protected when he exposed Legion. Not only did Haltze delete his own files in such a way that even Tony could’ve recovered them-” Tony shot her a dirty look “-but he added pictures of you and Tim from AFTER Bronston died, which meant that it would’ve backfired as legitimate evidence.”

 

“But I’m still wondering, how could Haltze have killed Kellan?” Tony asked. “He was an old man.”

 

“From what I saw of Mister Kellan’s injuries,” Ducky chimed in, “it appears that, like David, he was also hit with a tranquilizer. It would’ve rendered him defenseless to even an elderly attacker.”

 

“Haltze must’ve had Kellan help drag David into the car as part of the plan, then killed him,” Tony deduced.

 

“But what part did Haltze even play in any of this?” Tim asked.

 

“According to the files, he was the actual leader of Legion. Kellan was sort of a manager, but Haltze was the real key,” Abby replied.

 

“He was using private schooling flights to bring small shipments of drugs and black market firearms back to DC from Kellan’s contacts in Philadelphia,” Gibbs said. “They were getting too conspicuous where they were, so Haltze made Kellan an offer to move the crew down here. The races were a front for his distribution, and Haltze left the ledgers on the laptop to prove it. He then transferred all the cash and was making a run for retirement.”

 

“The top 6 racers normally competed to see who would get the largest piece of the pie to sell to their individual dealers. Bronston worked his way up not even knowing what he was in for when he got there,” Abby added.

 

“And the track owner, how deeply was he involved?” David asked.

 

“The owner checked out, but the winnings manager was in Legion’s payroll files as a scout. He was the one who let Bronston in,” Abby answered.

 

“I can’t believe you guys do this kind of stuff all the time,” David said, looking at the team. “I feel like I could sleep for a month and all I did was drive and bark out orders.”

 

“And get shot, and get framed for organizing a crime ring, and go head-to-head with the top two of said ring,” Tim reminded him while counting on his fingers. “Give yourself some credit.”

 

“You did a good job, kid,” Gibbs said to David, looking proudly at him and McGee.

 

“But no, it’s really not like this all the time,” Tony said reluctantly. “Usually we have to run to chase the bad guys, we do not get fancy cars to drive, and we will most likely never get to race on a track and call it work ever again.”

 

 

NCIS

 

David stayed in the hospital for the next week, with Tim, Tony, and Ziva alternating their visits every night and staying at David’s condo once NCIS cleared it from being a crime scene. Tim arranged for a contractor to patch up the bullet holes and clean out the blood stains from the floor. Ziva then visited a local salon whose owner frequented David’s bakery and got her to get the blue out of his hair, bring it close to his natural color, clean off his nails, and help remove only the recent piercings. David finally felt like his old self again. Tony arranged for David to have a parking space for the Mustang in addition to the Mini, but David let him continue to play with it for another month so that Tim could park there during his weekend visits. NCIS had taken David’s couch because Haltze had shot it during the struggle and it was considered evidence, so on Tim’s next day in he brought in a few catalogues for them to browse through together to find a new one.

 

“Please tell me you don’t want this one,” Tim pointed to an extravagant-looking couch with an odd combination of stainless steel and leather.

 

“Let me see,” David said, “Oh GOD no! That thing looks like it belongs in some high-rise apartment where people put furniture that’s not meant to be sat on. Plus it’s leather, and I wouldn’t want Jethro scratching it.”

 

“Jethro?”

 

“Oh, you can’t leave him with a sitter every time you come to visit. I want you to bring him with you.”

 

Tim leaned in and kissed him, then put his hand in David’s and said, “I love you.”

 

“Love you too.”

 

They each held one end of the catalogue so it stayed open while their other hands were intertwined.

 

“I still want something deep like I had before, just not something green, white, or blue,” David said.

 

“So basically brown, black, gray, or red?”

 

“It has to match the bookshelves and coffee table. And no red, unless it’s a dark red.”

 

“I like this one,” Tim pointed to an oversized chocolate-colored sectional with a chaise on one end.

 

“That’d be great for cuddling, but it’s a bit expensive. Remember I came up rather short from the races? I was supposed to get another weekend’s worth of winnings. I can’t exactly go back there, either, now that the scandal’s shut them down.”

 

“If you like it, I’ll get it for you. It’s the least I can do given I dragged you into all of this in the first place.”

 

“Well, if we’re talking about settling debts, you could go the extra mile and make that soup you told me about when I was sick,” David said with a cheeky smile on his face.

 

“I’ll make it the first day you’re home. It won’t be as full as I normally make it, though. You’re not allowed to have much in the way of solids for a couple of weeks, you know.”

 

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m starting to feel like a pudding connoisseur.”

 

“Well this should make you feel better, Vance cleared me for a week’s family/medical leave once the hospital releases you so I can help you recover.”

 

“I get you all to myself for a whole week? When were you gonna tell me?”

 

“Sometime when too much movement wouldn’t end up hurting you more,” Tim said with a wink.

 

“You devilish _Elflord,_ ” David said with a loving smile.

 

“My _Scruffy-Lookin’ Nerf Herder._ ”

 

NCIS

 

“David, I swear if you don’t sit down for ten minutes I will tie you to a chair and make you!” Tim yelled.

 

“They will be here in ten minutes! And you wouldn’t DARE tie me up in front of guests!” David yelled back.

 

Two weeks after David was released from the hospital, his doctors cleared him to eat solid food. That weekend, he invited the entire NCIS team up to his house for a barbecue. Tim had been helping David recover and was under strict orders to be sure he rested. Tim spent the afternoon tidying, and David stayed in the kitchen preparing food whether Tim liked it or not.

 

Tim sauntered over to the kitchen with a mild warning look on his face. “Just promise me that when they are here, you will actually relax?”

 

“I am relaxing!” David smiled at Tim as he finished the second mountain of kebabs and sat them next to the trays of corn cobs, steaks, and burgers.

 

“David, it’s too much. Don’t overload your system just because they said you _can_. You need time to adjust.”

 

“I will have you know, _Doctor McWorryWart,_ that I only pre-salted the things that I would not be eating. All of the marinades were made with low or no sodium, _which the doctor said is fine,_ ” he retorted in a matter-of-fact tone. Though upon seeing Tim’s dissatisfied look, he slowly walked up to him and pulled him into a standing snuggle. “Thank you for keeping me in line, though. I promise to take it easy, just some corn, a veggie kebab and a hamburger. Besides, my mom always taught me to always make extra so you can enjoy the leftovers.”

 

Tim smiled a little bit at the thanks and intertwined their fingers. “Do you promise to relax? Please?”

 

“How can I say no to that face?” David said and gave Tim a small kiss. “Fine, let me start the grill then I will sit at the counter while everyone comes in, deal?”

 

“ _I_ will start the grill, _you_ will sit at the counter,” Tim said with a smirk as he turned to go to the back yard.

 

“Fiiiine,” David mock-pouted and sat down gently on one of the island stools.

 

The doorbell rang, and David perked up until Tim’s voice rang out, “Don’t even think about it, David!” As Tim crossed the house to the door, David leered exaggeratedly at him while he crossed the kitchen doorway. “I know you,” Tim sang with a smile as he reached the front door.

 

Tim opened the front door to see Abby, Ziva, Tony, Ducky, Palmer, and Gibbs all waiting with various goods. They all gave various greetings to Tim, then made their way into the kitchen to greet David before heading to the back yard to set up. David hugged everyone, even Palmer before realizing he didn’t even know who he was. Ducky introduced them.

 

“David, this is Jimmy Palmer, my assistant. Jimmy, David O’Malley.”

 

“Hi Jimmy, nice to meet you. I’m sorry, I don’t remember seeing you at NCIS.”

 

“Good to meet you too, and no, you wouldn’t have. I mainly work in the morgue with Doctor Mallard. Though he described you as having blue hair?”

 

David smiled and waved it off as they made their way out back. “That was part of the cover, it’s a long story.”

 

Tim had set up a table outside with all the necessary cookout items along with a few extra chairs for more people to sit. Gibbs was appointed Grill Master, Abby poured drinks, and Tim buzzed around making sure everyone had everything they needed. David sat in one of the chairs while talking with Ziva and Tony.

 

“So Tony, is my Mustang still in one piece?” David asked.

 

“Why does everyone think I’m a bad driver? Ziva is the bad driver!”

 

“I am not! You’re just a wimp,” she retorted.

 

“Ok David, how much did McGee tell you about me before we met?”

 

“Enough. You wrecked a ’66 Mustang? What is wrong with you?”

 

“Hey! I didn’t wreck it, it was blown up!”

 

“A likely story,” Ziva said with a teasing smile.

 

“Blown up? Oh I gotta hear this one,” David said eagerly.

 

While Tony told David a somewhat “declassified” version of his explosive undercover story, Ziva went off to find Tim who was standing at the grill with Gibbs.

 

“Hey Tim, Gibbs,” she said with a smile looking at them. “So Tim, how have things been with David’s recovery?”

 

He grinned and chuckled softly. “He’s been a pain in the ass, but I love him. I could tell he was getting frustrated not being able to do anything for a while, so I let him go all-out for this. Thank you both for coming,” he nodded to both of them.  


“Anytime, Tim,” Gibbs said.

 

“Of course,” Ziva said. “Is this your first, well, _date_ as an official couple?”

 

“Well I think we still consider our first date the one at the cafe when we met, but it’s definitely a new chapter in both of our lives.”

 

“Just make sure to teach him the rules,” Gibbs said. “I’ll be having Ziver quiz him until he has them down.”

 

“Why?”

 

Gibbs simply said, “They’re good rules.” He then handed him a plate with some food. “That’s for David, no salt.”

 

“Thanks,” Tim said and carried the plate over to where David sat. He was still talking with Tony but was also joined by Abby.

 

David’s smile lit up when he saw Tim with the plate of warm food. Tim pulled one of the chairs up and sat next to him as he picked up a corn cob. Before he took a bite, he paused then looked at Tim.

 

“Take a bite with me.”

 

“What?” Tim asked, confused.

 

“This symbolizes the restart of my normal life, and I want us to take a bite together. I wouldn’t be here without you, and I don’t want to even consider my normal life without you, so let’s bite together.”

 

Tim laughed and blushed, Tony rolled his eyes and walked away, and Abby couldn’t resist the moment and grabbed her camera to take a picture.

 

“Ok guys, take the bite!” She said, pointing the camera at them.

 

With a wide grin, Tim took David’s hand in his, then used his other hand to hold his side of the cob. They nuzzled together, cheek-to-cheek, then got in position and took the bite together. Abby snapped the picture and smiled at the preview on her camera.

 

“Alright, now a kiss.”

 

Both David and Tim flushed, but after putting the cob down David reached his hand around and cupped the back of Tim’s head. He pulled them close together and looked deep into Tim’s eyes. Their lips met, and despite Abby’s excited squealing at their cuteness, the world fell away for a few precious moments.

 

“I love you, Timmy.”

 

“I love you too, David.”

 


End file.
